Family Ties
by She-Jedi-Siona
Summary: Suprise, suprise! Kurt's got a sister; the Demoness, AKA Rose Blanch. But just as soon as they get to know one another, the circus comes to town...*LAST CHAP UPLOADED!!*
1. Chapter 1

Family Ties: Chapter 1 A/N: OK, let's get this over with...*deep breath* I. DON'T OWN. X-MEN EVOLUTION. If I did, it'd be on everyday, I'd have a Kurt plushy (dear sweet Lord, why isn't there one yet!?!?), and all the episodes on VHS. Also, do take note that I haven't seen this show in...how long has it been now? Never mind, it's just been a long time. This is also my first X-MEN fic, so please turn a blind eye at any mistakes I make. I swear I'll get better!  
  
*****  
  
The rain shower poured down relentlessly on the streets of Bayville, soaking everything unlucky enough to be caught in it. No one could be seen walking the avenue, save for a cloaked figure. She brought the overcoat up further, shivering in the cold of the rain and the night.  
  
Gazing forward, her eyes weary and carrying scars of past pains, she could see the local Institute, for presumably "gifted" youngsters. She let a thin smile cross her face, though at the moment, she had nothing to smile about. "Just vhat kind of youngsters, I vonder?" she pondered aloud, her deep, silky voice tinted with a German accent. Pulling her coat more tightly to her soaking body, she started her soppy trek to the large building.  
  
A man came around the corner. He looked to be about his thirties or so, give or take a year, and nearly six feet tall. His left arm was adorned with a crucifix. The woman's instant reaction was to freeze, poised to flee. When the other made no move to even notice her, she relaxed, but made sure she could still bolt if she was forced to that. In a world like this, one couldn't afford to be careless, even in a minute town like this.  
  
The two strangers passed by each other, not speaking a word, and she allowed a relieved sigh to escape her lips. Half a second later, she felt a strong forearm wrap around her throat and a handgun pressed to her back, in the perfect position to shoot a 9mm shell right through her heart. "Hiya, pretty lady!" said the man in a rough voice. His breath reeked of booze and drugs. When she twisted her eyes to meet his, she could see they were glassy, unfocused. "Whatcha got in your coat, huh? Maybe a purse with lotsa and lotsa money? Huh?"  
  
He pressed the gun harder into her back and tightened the hold around her throat. She involuntarily gasped for air, feeling her body begin to panic.  
  
"Well?" He poked her again, making her wince. "You got some dough for Tony?" He laughed, a hard, guttural sound, like a bear growling. He began to laugh so hard that he threw his head back, howling at how clever he was to catch this lady with money in her jacket. In between his hooting and hollering, he released her and removed the gun.  
  
Thus giving his "helpless" victim to turn around and, with the swiftness only a few athletes had been able to perfect, nail him with a kick right in his overly-large gut. The drunkard groaned, let out a sound like air being let out of a balloon, and fell to the ground with a particularly loud thud. "You wretch," Tony yelled from the ground, clutching his beer-belly in pain.  
  
"You poet, you," said the woman lightly. For the first time in his besotted stunt, Tony looked up at her eyes, and was horrified. They were normal enough; white, with irises that were gray, the deep gray of the thunderclouds overhead...until you saw her pupils. They burned a mad red, like her eyeballs were on fire within.  
  
The top of her hood had fallen from her face, giving Tony his very first glance at a demon. Her skin, a dim lavender, was darkened further by the night, giving her the appearance that she was cloaked in shadow. Her hair was down to her knees, pulled back into a series of repeating ponytails with dark black ribbons. The ears, extended out to their fullest, remotely resembled those of a horse or an elf. She made a nasty smile at him, showing him that every single tooth in her skull was as pointed as a lion's. When the demon reached down for him and yanked him up by his arm, Tony saw that she had no thumbs and only two long, slender fingers on each hand, and that she was covered from head to foot with a dark indigo, velvety fur.  
  
He let out a hoarse yell for help and went for the gun that lay on the sidewalk. A tail with forks at the end, making it look like she had a hand- sized ace of spades on her tail, intercepted him and snatched up the weapon as easily as a hand would. Before Tony could react, he found himself face- to-barrel with his own pistol.  
  
"You find it funny to rob innocents of their hard-earned money?" said the she-demon calmly, her eyes staring down at him with those god-awful, fiery pupils. "You are überdrüssig ."  
  
The forked tail began to pull the trigger back. Tony whimpered, tears streaming down his face. "Are you going to leave me and others alone?" the she-demon demanded.  
  
"Yes, YES!" screamed Tony, waving his hands. "I swear, I'll NEVER do it again, lady! Just don't shoot!"  
  
The she-demon paused, her eyes narrowing in crafty speculation. With a crack like a whip, the tail spun the handgun to a store nearly two blocks away.  
  
"Leave, scum," the she-demon said. When Tony didn't move, for fear he was only playing with him, she cracked her tail along the ground, emitting another crack. "I SAID LEAVE!" she roared. Wings as long as a thirteen year- old child spread out, flinging her coat back. The blue-black veins stood out against the purple skin stretching from shoulder blade to wing tip. At the elbow of each wing was a hook the size of a man's ring-finger, curved and lethal.  
  
Tony did leave, scrambling to his feet and running as fast as they could carry him. When lights began to turn on and angry murmurs began to echo around the neighborhood, the woman jerked her hood back onto her head and hastily made her way to the Institute, leaving only a pistol and confused, sleepy-eyed people behind her.  
  
*****  
  
"Kurt!" screeched Kitty as she stomped her way into the entrance room of the Institute. In one clenched fist was an empty bag of chips. Jerking her gaze around, she found no sign of the menace who had eaten all of HER private stash of sweets. "KUUUUUURT! You get your furry, elfy, blue butt in here!"  
  
His characteristic sound of bamf was heard, a small puff of smoke appeared, and, in a clap of light, Kurt stood in front of her in all of his blue- furred glory. "Vhat?" he asked innocently.  
  
"I'll tell you what!" Kitty yelled at him, her face flushing with fury. She held up her piece of evidence. "You ate my chips again! And after I told you not to!"  
  
"I did not!" protested Kurt, putting a three-digit hand to his chest, miming great hurt. "I am 'urt, Kitty, that you think I ate your stash."  
  
Kitty opened her mouth, preparing another yell, when the sound of a wheelchair interrupted her. "What is going on here?" Xavier demanded, Storm right behind him.  
  
"Kurt ate my chips again!" Kitty said as calmly as she could, knowing it wouldn't get her anywhere to yell at the professor. Flashing the empty bag at him, she said, "And I specifically told him not to!"  
  
"Is this true, Kurt?" Storm asked.  
  
"Vell..." Kurt tried to rub his large toes into the carpet. "Mayve one or two, but -"  
  
"Ah-HA!" cried Kitty.  
  
"Kitty, please," Xavier said, raising a hand. Turning his attention back to Kurt, he asked, "Kurt, would you come with me?"  
  
Kurt nodded and obediently followed Xavier's wheelchair into the kitchen. Storm and Kitty watched him go, Kitty with a smug look on her face, and Storm a stern look on hers at the one on Kitty's.  
  
The doorbell chimed, making both of them jump. "Who could that be?" asked Kitty.  
  
Storm made her way to the door, Kitty trailing behind her. "I don't know. It's awful late to be having visitors."  
  
She opened the door to reveal a hooded, soaking-wet figure on the door- step. It was very dark outside, and all that Kitty and Storm could see of their visitor's face was a pair of stormy-grey eyes with (at least, Storm thought they were) flaming red pupils. But then again, her eyes could have been playing tricks on her.  
  
"Oh, hello," Storm said, quick to regain her manners. She held the door open and gestured for the visitant to come in. "Would you like to come in?"  
  
The visitor paused, then walked slowly inside. The drops of water soaked the burgundy carpets as the visitor gazed at their new surroundings. Apparently, they were impressed.  
  
Before Storm could get a word in, Kitty blurted out, "Hi! Who are you, and why are you here so late at night?"  
  
The visitor whirled on them, water droplets flinging at them. Even in the light, neither Kitty or Storm could see any features of their guest, save the eyes. Storm was now most definitely sure that the pupils were red. It startled her the slightest bit, and she wondered if she was meeting a new mutant. But how could a new mutant have appeared without Cerebro picking up them up?  
  
The newcomer didn't answer Kitty at first, slightly suspicious. Finally, they said with tint of a German accent in their strong but soft voice, "I am Rose Blanch, and I have come here in search of a lost sibling." Their voice sounded soft, the kind more suited to low whispers, but it had a tone of steel to it, like they had been through very hard times.  
  
"Oh?" That certainly took both Storm and Kitty by surprise. After a few moments of shock, Storm managed to say, "And who are you looking for? A student here?"  
  
The visitor began to answer, but that was when Kurt teleported into the room. Seeing the visitor, he stopped dead in his tracks, a chip bag in his hands. "Uh-oh."  
  
Letting out a small gasp, the visitor collapsed and was caught by Storm. Kurt frowned. He'd done this before, scaring people into a fright. But, still, he was slightly worried about the newcomer. "Is she alright?" he asked as he loped over.  
  
"I'm not sure," said Storm. "Kitty, go get Professor Xavier. Quick."  
  
Kitty raced off to find the professor. Storm and Kurt gently lifted the visitor onto the couch. Despite the heavy coat, they were amazingly light and easy to carry. "We need to see their face," murmured Storm, pulling back the hood. Once it was fully removed, they both gasped in shock.  
  
Kurt was face-to-face with himself. *****  
  
"Are there any records on her?"  
  
Xavier looked up from the computer. "None, Ororo."  
  
Storm sighed and went back to their patient. The cloak had been removed and replaced with a pair of shorts and a T-shirt. Her long, forked tail hung off the edge of the table, swaying slightly. She was breathing normally, her chest rising and falling gently. Her wings had been spread out and were resting on two nearby chairs.  
  
Both turned at the sound of skin smudging on glass. Nearly half the student body had their faces pressed to the windows of the medical bay. Although the sound-proof glass made it nearly impossible, Storm could swear that she heard them fighting over the best spots.  
  
Xavier let a small grin cross his face and turned back to the computer. "Ah, here's what I was looking for." A window came up, showing the all-too familiar twisting strand of DNA.  
  
"What are you looking for?"  
  
A second, smaller window came up. It showed all of the names and heritages of every student and teacher in the building. "You said she came looking for a relative, correct?" Storm nodded. "I am comparing DNA and see who is the closest match to our new friend."  
  
The window scrolled its way down, rejecting every student from A to V. When it finally stopped, only one match was found:  
  
Kurt Wagner.  
  
"Kurt?" Logan had managed to wrestle past the entire student body and was looking over Xavier's head at the screen. Looking over at the patient on the medical table, he said, "She and the elf sure do look an awful lot alike, if ya look over the wings."  
  
"Yes..." Xavier leaned back in his chair, rubbing his chin. "But how? An aunt? No, too young. Sister? Quite possibly. Even..." He paused dramatically, thinking over his next word. "Mother?"  
  
"I thought that Mystique was his mother," Logan grunted.  
  
"Yes...but their DNA is almost completely alike. She is a very close relative. Most likely an elder sister." Xavier turned from the computer and wheeled his way over to the unconscious Rose. "But why...how?" He gently placed his hands on her head, her soft hair twisting around his fingers like violet ivy vines. He opened his mind like he had done innumerable times before, into the psyche of one Rose Blanch.  
  
*****  
  
Germany...home...  
  
A castle, like the ones from the Mediaeval Age. The kettledrum of thunder can be heard easily, the lightning blinding as it races across a darkened sky. But since I've lived with it for nearly six years now, I am quite used to it.  
  
Someone screaming. "What did you do to him?" My mother...dear Mother...  
  
She runs past me, holding a squalling bundle. Mother grabs my arm, jerking me up and holding me tight. She's crying. I can only latch my tail around her arms and hold on to her woolen cloak.  
  
Someone behind me roars. Magneto, that man Mother worked for. He's running after us. I begin to cry in fear.  
  
Mother keeps running.  
  
An old bridge. The boards are rotting, filled with holes where termites and other bugs have eaten through them.  
  
Wolves. Huge, snarling, drooling wolves. They bite at Mother, tearing pieces of her robe. I cry louder, so does my brother.  
  
Suddenly, he is gone. My brother is gone, falling...falling...Mother screams, and so do I.  
  
The board under me breaks. I scream again, this time in fear instead of mourning. Falling...falling...  
  
Water, pressing in everywhere. I panic, trying to breath, and almost drown. Tiny wings flap desperately, trying to fly in the liquid.  
  
I reach the surface, where I cough and gasp and scream. "Mother! Mother!" More coughing, more gasping, but no more screaming. A plank from the bridge floats nearby. I grab onto it, vomiting out all the water in my body.  
  
I can hear my brother. He's crying, lying on the shore, where the river put him. The wolves again, snapping their salivating jaws as they close in on my little brother. I yell at them and throw a stick in the water at them. It hits one and they run away, scared of my screaming.  
  
I try to get to shore like my brother did. But the rapids are quickening, and I am too weak. I can only grab my brother and hold onto the wood as we drift away...  
  
A woman screams. I wake up and see a lady running to a cottage in a meadow, just outside the bank of the river I'm still in. A man comes out and the woman points to me. They both run over, looking alarmed. "Der Dämon!," they call me. "Demon!"  
  
I am just as scared of them as they are of me as I tremble in fear and cold, lying on my belly on the beach of the river. Then I realize.  
  
Pushing hard, I show them my brother. They gasp, then realize that I am only a child, and that he is only a baby. The woman bends down and picks him up, cradling him and quieting his wails.  
  
The man looks down at me. I can see it in his eyes. I am dying. I know it. He knows it. Strange...when I met my first normal human, I was dying. "His name?" the man asks quietly, knowing I have little time left. I want to curse, to pray, to cry, to be brave, but I can only lay there and wither away.  
  
"...K...Kurt..." The river takes me. I loose my grip on the rocks and they watch me float away in the river. My last sight is them holding Kurt and taking him home with them.  
  
Many...many days later. Or was it weeks? I can not remember...  
  
I wake up, just under the bridge of a town by the name of Blanch. I live there for years, living off of stolen food and drinking scummy river water, hiding from a world that will never know me. I never had a last name, I was only Rose. So I become Rose of Blanch.  
  
Rose Blanch.  
  
I then join a circus as a side-show freak, later an acrobat, famed for my extreme flexibility and superior agility, but shunned for my frightening appearance.  
  
I do not mind. It only brings me closer to my goal.  
  
Finding Kurt and Mother again.  
  
*****  
  
Xavier released Rose. "I see..."  
  
"Well? What did you see?" Storm asked. Even Logan seemed interested, leaning against the computer console.  
  
"She is, indeed, Rose Blanch. Twenty-five years old, she is native to German...and she is Kurt's elder sister." He paused, recovering from the awful memories he had just experienced. "She also fell into the river the same night that Kurt did. She thought she was dying, and so gave Kurt to the Wagners. She's been part of the circuses for years now, only having recently raised enough money to come to America and find Kurt." A stunned silence filled the room. Even the students outside were hushed, though they had not heard a word of the conversation. The only sound that was heard was the repeating of Rose's breathing.  
  
"She's...remarkable," Xavier said calmly to break the silence. "I expected to find a person who was tormented by her appearance, much like Kurt, but not Rose. It was completely the other way around; she's one of the most stable, secure, and strong people I have ever had the pleasure of meeting. She's surprisingly very much at peace with herself, save the fact she lost her family."  
  
"Should we go tell Kurt now?" Storm ventured.  
  
"No, let's wait until Rose blesses us with her presence." 


	2. Chapter 2

Family Ties: Chapter 2 A/N: Just wanted to tell you that my life is now in danger due to this fic. Why? How? MY MOTHER. See, since I haven't watched X-M.E. in such a loooooooong time, I printed a lot of stuff off the Internet about the characters, episodes, and stuff. Only, Mummy ain't too cheerful about it...  
  
*****  
  
Where am I? wondered Rose. Her eyes fluttered open to stare at a metal ceiling. A lamp hanging down to her shone harsh light, making her scarlet pupils shrink.  
  
"Nice of you to join us."  
  
Immediately on high alert, Rose was instantly on her feet and into a battle stance. There were four people in the room with her; a man in a wheelchair, one woman, a second rough-looking man, and...  
  
Oh, it couldn't be!  
  
But there he was, her sibling. Her brother. Kurt. He's grown! she thought happily, barely able to contain the happiness she felt now. It was mind- blowing; only sixteen years ago, she'd been able to hold him in her hands! But now...  
  
"Rose?" asked the man in the wheelchair.  
  
Jerking out of her blissful stupor, she looked at the man. "What? Who are you?"  
  
The disabled man put a hand to his chest. "I am Charles Xavier."  
  
"Yes...I believe I 'ave heard of you."  
  
Xavier smiled. "I most certainly hope so." Sweeping to Logan and Storm, he said, "He is Logan, and she is Ororo. But you may call them Wolverine and Storm."  
  
They exchanged greetings, introductions, and polite compliments. Kurt, in the midst of this, stayed quiet, trying to sort out his feelings. Should he be happy that a relative had found him? Or was she just like his...he shuddered...mother? Did she like him at all? Would he like her?  
  
Looking at Rose, he instantly knew the answer to the last question. He could see from the way she moved, the way she talked...everything about her made him feel very loving and a tad bit protective to her. When she finally turned to him, Kurt straightened and tried to look less nervous than he really was. Rose saw right through this, and chuckled. Kurt felt his face flush.  
  
"Rose," said Xavier, "would you like to explain where you have been all these years?"  
  
She turned to him, her expression stern. "Yes...with pleasure."  
  
*****  
  
"And so you 'ave been in Germany all these years?" Kurt asked. His voice was filled curiosity, wonder, and - just a little - sadness.  
  
Rose smiled from the couch. They were now in the living room, still with most of the pupils of the school trying to hear and see what was happening. "Yes, but not just Germany." She held up her hands, ticking off all four of her digits as she spoke. "Sweden, France, Yugoslavia, England..." She looked up and smiled gently, barely showing her formidable fangs. "As you can see, I am quite the world traveler, but my destiny vas always America."  
  
"Vhy?"  
  
Slumping back into the couch, Rose closed her eyes. "As you all know, I used to vork for in the circus. Once, you and your adopted parents came to see my show. Of course, none of you remembered me, and I didn't get the chance to see you until later; when you left, your tail vas sticking out of your cloak. I had a suspicion, so I followed you home, and sure enough, it vas you."  
  
She looked down, gazing down at her hands. "But I never got the courage to confront you, afraid of rejection. When I finally met your parents again, they vere rather...alarmed at the sight of me..."  
  
Xavier suddenly caught the image of a woman trying to beat on Rose with a frying pan.  
  
"...but vhen they realized who I was, they talked rather easily about you, Kurt. They also told me you had gone to America, to an Institution for mutants." She folded her long fingers together, giving the effect of someone very tired and old and wise. "So I vorked harder, barely spending any money even on food, until I had the currency to come here." She opened her eyes. "And here I am."  
  
"Wow," Kurt said. He was still in shock over that one little fact: He had a sister! A SISTER! Someone to share secrets with, someone to give him advice, someone to comfort and be comforted by. Looking over at the professor, he could see that the old man understood, and smiled. "That's amazing, Rose."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
"I still cannot believe..." Kurt paused, trying his best to put his emotions and thoughts into words, "...that you came all this vay, just for me."  
  
Rose smiled softly. "Not 'just' for you, Kurt. I came for my family." She and Kurt just looked at each other for a moment, taking in the peaceful silence.  
  
Xavier cleared his throat quietly, bringing them out of their trance. "Rose, I was wondering...do you have a job here in the city?"  
  
Rose shook her head. "No, I do not. And I spent nearly all of my money on the trip 'ere."  
  
"Hm..." Xavier put the tips of his fingers together, his eyes dark and thoughtful. "Do you specialize in anything?"  
  
"Such as?"  
  
"Well, cooking, the arts, music -"  
  
"Die Kunt," Rose blurted. Seeing that only Kurt had understood her, she added, "Art, such as music and photography. I can also cook rather vell."  
  
Xavier grinned brightly. "We have never had the students study cooking, or very much music. How would you like to be a teacher here, and tutor our young students?" Both his and Rose's eyes traveled to the windows. Young faces instantly disappeared.  
  
Rose looked back to Kurt and Xavier, her stormy and flaming eyes pensive. After a, at least to Kurt, full minute of torture, she finally smiled, this time baring every single fang in her skull. It would have been incredibly frightening if she was angry. "I vould love to."  
  
*****  
  
"Yaaaaaaaaaaaaaaawn!" announced Evan as he, Scott, and Jean walked down the hall and to the kitchen. "Man! I am SO hungry!"  
  
"Yeah!"agreed Jean. "I could eat a horse!"  
  
All three laughed but were instantly silenced when they came into the kitchen.  
  
There stood Rose in a pair of jeans and a light blue shirt that Storm had given her. She was chopping up a carrot with swiftness and expertise. She gently slid the carrot slices into a pot on the stove that was emitting some incredibly wonderful and soothing smells. Other students and Logan were at the table, eating their hearts out on their favorite breakfasts and forgetting all manners in their feast.  
  
None of them had been able to see her last night (they had lost their spots by the windows) , so they were at first shocked by her looks. But they were quickly over it, having lived with Kurt and Hank McCoy for so long.  
  
One ear swerved to them the instant that Evan's squeaky shoes touched the floor. It was soon followed by the rest of Rose's head. "Good morning. Vhat vould you three like?"  
  
"Oh, you gotta get some of her chow!" cried Jamie Madrox, otherwise known as Multiple, waving a fork with a buttered piece of waffle on the end. "She's a great cook! Try some!"  
  
The others murmured their agreement through full mouths. Even Logan said, as he chewed his way into a large pancake, "I'll admit it..." He swallowed. "I've never had food this good."  
  
"Er..." Scott looked over at Jean and Evan, then back at Rose. "I'd like some of that soup. Please. It smells great."  
  
"Thank you." Her tail snapped to a counter in the blink of an eye, opening the door and flinging out a bowl. Before Scott could catch it, Rose had expertly unfolded one wing and caught it. Taking it in both of her hands, she used her tail to wrap around the ladle and poured some of the stew into the bowl, not spilling a drop. "Here you go," she said, handing him the bowl. As Scott took it, her hand brushed his. He was surprised at how amazingly soft her skin and fur was. It brought up a memory of a long-ago visit to the zoo and the rare chance to pet a baby white tiger.  
  
"And you two?" Rose asked Evan and Jean.  
  
"How about some pancakes? With cranberry jam?" asked Jean politely.  
  
"I'll have some soup, too," Evan said, already taking a seat.  
  
"Coming up." Rose filled up another bowl and handed it to Evan and was making two pancakes at once a split second later, flipping them so high that everyone was sure that they were going to hit the roof. Whipping her tail and snatching a jar of jam, Rose skillfully poured a bit on and tossed the plate to Jean. "Bon apatite, as your people say."  
  
"Actually, that's what the French say."  
  
Scott took a sip of the soup, thinking up a polite excuse...  
  
And was blown away at the taste. "Wow! This is some soup!" He eagerly scooped it up, munching on the carrots and lingering in swallowing the spoonful, savoring the warm and slightly spice taste. It made him think of home.  
  
Rose smiled politely. "Thank you, Scott." She turned back to her work, busily stirring and chopping and flipping.  
  
Xavier and Hank walked (or wheeled) into the room, gazing around at all the satisfied faces. "I see that you are perfectly at home in the kitchen, Rose," commented Xavier, amused.  
  
Hank sniffed the air delicately. "I say, what is that lavish smell?"  
  
Rose was quick to offer him and Xavier a bowl of soup each. "Give me your opinion, Professor." Turning to Hank, she said, "I do not believe we 'ave met. You are?"  
  
Hank offered her one large hand for her slender one. "Hank McCoy, one of the teachers here. I'm also known as Beast."  
  
"I see." She took his hand. Her hand was absurdly dwarfed in his grip. "Nice to meet you, Mr. McCoy."  
  
"Just Hank, if you will."  
  
Rose smiled sweetly, taking care not to frighten him with her lethal fangs. "Nice to meet you 'Ank."  
  
"I've been informed by the professor here that you are to instruct our students in the arts?" Hank asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Good. Everyone needs a touch of art in their lives." Hank sipped a bit of the soup, crunching a carrot. "Mm. I like. I like a lot." Pointing to the bowl, he asked, "Where did you get this recipe?"  
  
"From a woman who vas trying to protect a local church from vandalism. She gave me shelter and taught me how to cook for myself, in return that I pretend to be a demon, to scare avay the ones who were trashing the church." Rose flashed him a toothy grin. "They never came back. And now the St. Peter's Church in the town of Blanch is rumored to be haunted by a she- demon."  
  
"Hm," Xavier said, still having soup. Apparently, he was impressed as well. "Which reminds me..." He set the bowl on his lap and looked up to Rose. "Do you have an alias?"  
  
Rose's eyes seemed to shine their brightest. "In the circus, I vas known as...the Demoness."  
  
***** Kurt had been trying with all his might at becoming more and more acquainted with her. He often asked her questions about her past, hobbies, and things like that. Rose usually responded with a walk around the gardens. Rose apparently adored the garden. She went to great lengths each and every plant's name. And then went even farther to learn their names in Latin, Portugese, Chinese, Swedish, French, Japanese, Mexican...  
  
"The hundreds of scents clear my mind," Rose explained when he questioned her floral hobby. "And I never saw too many flowers and plants, living under the bridge of Blanch."  
  
Kurt winced at hearing this, and tried to hide it, but it seemed as if nothing got past Rose Blanch. She smiled sweetly at him. "Don't vorry. You're not the first to pity me."  
  
"I don't pity you, Rose," Kurt responded.  
  
"Oh, but you do! You do!" She chuckled and plucked a lily flower from its bush. She breathed it in, then sighed. "You do," she repeated, staring at the flower. "But please don't."  
  
"Okay." Kurt had followed her round the gardens, patiently listening to her and making sure he didn't hurt Rose's feelings by asking too many questions; she seemed so fragile and tender, like a baby, and he in now way wanted her harmed.  
  
But she almost demanded questions about EVERYTHING: "Vhy is the sky blue, Kurt?" "Kurt, vhat is this flower's name?" "Kurt, do you like living here?"  
  
At first, he started to think that she knew little to nothing, and had dared to ask about her education. "I am very educated, Kurt," Rose said. Looking up, she said, "Kurt, 'ow far avay is the sun?"  
  
He looked up. "I dunno...pretty far avay, I think." Kurt looked back to Rose, blinking away spots from gazing at the sun. "Vhy do you ask so many questions?"  
  
Rose smiled at him Every fiber of her being said, "Isn't it obvious?" When she saw that it wasn't that obvious to Kurt, she said cheerily, "'Ow do you learn things about me, Kurt?"  
  
"I ask you questions."  
  
"Loots of questions?" Nobody knew why, but Rose's pronunciation of "lots" always came out as "loots", though Kurt's didn't.  
  
Kurt thought about that. It was true, he did ask her questions, but not so many that she felt uncomfortable. "Not too many, I think."  
  
"So how much 'ave you learned about me, Kurt?"  
  
He paused and thought even harder. "Well...you like flowers...and questions...and cooking..." He trailed off, slightly stunned. He'd learned very little about his sister. "That is why I ask YOU loots of questions, Kurt," said Rose. "I learn not just from your answers, but from the vay you move, the vay you speak, the vay you react to my questions. It is really very simple, you see, Kurt." She tilted her head to the side, giving him a curious look and flashing that exceedingly frightening grin. "See? You ask loots of question, you receive loots of answers, Kurt."  
  
If you want to play that game...thought Kurt slyly. "Okay. More questions. Vhy do you always say my name?"  
  
"You 'ave a very handsome name, Kurt. Our mother chose it because she thought it vas a strong, noble name, and she vanted you to be all of that."  
  
Kurt recoiled at the mention of Mystique, lips curling back in hate. This didn't go unnoticed by Rose. She frowned. "I suppose you do not like Mother?"  
  
"No," Kurt answered sincerely, eyes flashing. "I do not. She does 'orrible things that makes me ashamed to call her my mother."  
  
"Oh, yes, I forgot," Rose answered, staying calm as Kurt fumed, "about our mother's...current habits."  
  
"I guess so."  
  
The next few minutes were spent in silence. Some of the other kids charged in, making both Kurt and Rose jump, and began playing basketball. Unable to stand the silence, Kurt blurted out, "Who is our father?"  
  
Rose stared at him, then gestured for him to follow her somewhere more private. She led him into the trees, out of sight and sound from the rest of the Institute. When she was sure no one was eavesdropping on them, Rose sighed. "Our father was normal human. He 'ad known our mother since childhood, and so vasn't frightened by her odd appearance." She paused, looking upset. Kurt stayed silent, curious of his still dark and shielded past. "Mother loved him, very much, and he loved her too...they married a year before I vas born." Rose gazed sadly at her long hands, as was her usual habit, wiggling all four fingers. "Vhen I was born, Mother was deeply upset; she 'ad been 'oping for a normal child, but she 'ad me instead. But our father comforted her, saying that I vas perfect."  
  
Rose took in a deep breath. Kurt noticed her eyes had become very moist. "Mother became pregnant again, vith you, Kurt. Father vas so very much in love with you. He vas so proud of you." Rose sighed heavily, and a tear streaked down her face. Kurt wanted to reach up and brush it away, but was too transfixed by her haunting tale to move. "But then...Mother vas alvays a rebel, I suppose, and she teamed up vith the mutant, Magneto, in order to protect us from the rest of the vorld. Father didn't vant her to; he knew that once she fixes her eyes on something, she vouldn't stop at nothing to reach her goal." Another deep breath. "Father stood in Magneto's way, veakening our mother until she vas going to leave Magneto. Magneto killed our father. Mother tried to run, taking us vith her, but..."  
  
Rose stopped, her eyes producing more and more tears. "You know vhat happened after that, Kurt."  
  
Kurt only stared at her, his jaw hanging in shock. When he finally recovered from his initial shock, he said quietly, "Do you 'ave a picture of him?"  
  
"Yes.." Rose reached into the back of her jeans. She pulled out a half- ripped picture of a man holding a tiny baby.  
  
A blue baby.  
  
"Is that me?" Kurt said, clasping the photo in both hands, staring hard at it. He suddenly laughed. "I vas little." My father- man, man, man, man, man - no. My father. Kurt couldn't let go of it, gazing at it like it was the very thing that gave him life. His father was actually very handsome; his hair was an awful lot like Kurt's, save for the fact it was dark brown with a snow-white skunk-stripe in the front. He was smiling, a smile that Kurt easily identified with Rose. He wore glasses that sat in front of stormy- grey eyes. His face was much like Kurt's, so were his eyebrows, and his forehead...in fact, much of this man reminded Kurt of himself.  
  
He stroked the photograph lovingly. "My father..." Looking up at Rose, he asked, "What vas his name, Rose?"  
  
"Gordon, Gordon Darkholme..." Rose put her left hand to her head, like she had a migraine, and turned around.  
  
Kurt was still looking at the picture. He found it hard to believe he was once so tiny that his father could hold him in one hand. The Kurt in the photo was covered in a fine down, his tail fairly stumpy and wrapped around Gordon's thumb. Kurt began to tremble.  
  
"Keep the photo, der Bruder," Rose said. When he turned around to give it back, she was gone. 


	3. Chapter 3

Family Ties: Chapter 3  
  
*****  
  
By the end of the week, Rose had gotten very settled in the Institute, and Kurt had gotten settled to the fact that he now had a big sister. Kurt was seemed to be much more at peace with himself and, although nobody had known her before, everyone could tell that Rose was happier now than she had probably ever been.  
  
Also, many students decided to take her Arts class, even Evan. Kurt was also taking it, grabbing hold of another chance to learn more about Rose, even if he wasn't exactly Picasso.  
  
The classroom they were all seated in was very spacious and lavish with its stained glass and polished wood desks and chairs. They had all expected to see molding clay, paints, colored pencils, and other artsy stuff, but the students had found nothing of the sort. So they had respectively taken their seats and, being the teens that they were, gossiped.  
  
Rose walked in just as a paper airplane flew past. She gave it a questioning look, then continued into the room. From her pupils' point of view, she certainly didn't look like a teacher! In fact, she looked more like them than anything in her khaki shorts and blue halter-top. She had also recently cut her hair to a more normal length. The indigo locks seemed to be the world's smallest waterfall as it cascaded down her back and shone like purple gold in the sunlight.  
  
"She's been hangin' out vith Kitty, again, ja?" he whispered to Evan, who grinned boyishly back.  
  
"Good morning, class," said Rose cheerfully. The kids all repeated the greeting back to her, sounding a little bored, despite the fact that they had signed up for this class. If Rose noticed this at all, she pointedly ignored it. Instead, she turned her back on them, facing the large window facing the gardens. Kurt had a distinct feeling what was going to happen.  
  
"It is very beautiful outside today, no?" Rose asked the students. A few of them nodded and others murmured their agreement. Smiling, Rose looked back to the window for a few seconds. "Vhat a shame it vould be to be locked up in this classroom..." Again, she turned to look at her new pupils. "Vhat do you say ve take our lesson outside today?"  
  
Roaring cheers answered her questions as the students raced out the gardens. Rose followed, picking up the large box in the corner and taking it with her.  
  
The students stood outside as she came out and carefully set the box down. "For today's project, ve are going to photograph anything on the property of the Institute." She pulled out ancient, black-and-white cameras and handed one out to each student. As the teens looked their new toys over and frightened one another by flashing them with the cameras, Rose said, "I vant you to take loots and loots of pictures, but only hand in one, the one that you think best represents your personalities and aspect of life." Smiling her ferocious smile, she spread her arms and wings wide open, looking like a cross between an angel and a demon. "Go on!"  
  
The students instantly scattered, into the nearby woods, throughout the gardens, and into the school. Only Rogue stayed where she was, gazing into the distance. It was late in the day, and the sun was already setting upon Bayville.  
  
"Is something the matter, Rogue?" Rose asked, concerned.  
  
Rogue turned to Rose. If Mystique had indeed adopted her, and Kurt was her adopted-brother, then that had to make Rose her sister, even if it wasn't by blood. What a funny-looking family I've got, she thought smugly to herself. Aloud, she said, "Just trying to find a good photograph, like you said, instead of running off like all those other nuts..."  
  
Both of them glanced over at the fountain, where Jamie had nearly a baker's dozen copies of himself scattered, all of them armed and dangerous with a camera. Amara shrieked when the original Jamie flashed the camera at her and slapped at him, causing him to fall. Even more Jamies appeared and scattered.  
  
"Maybe he is making a collage?" Rose said laughingly. Rogue snorted in amusement. "Vhat are you looking for, in particular?"  
  
"Well...I don't really know."  
  
"Don't vorry," Rose assured her, putting her odd hands on Rogue's shoulder's. "It will come to you, lieb die Schwester." She walked off before Rogue could answer her, disappearing in that strange way of hers.  
  
Rogue later looked up "lieb die Schwester" in a German-to-English dictionary. Apparently, it meant "beloved sister." Rogue was a bit startled; she'd always been a single child, so had never been called a sister before, much less a beloved sister. And she barely knew Rose, though, knowing the odd German, Rose probably knew much about her.  
  
Rogue couldn't help but smile. "Sister..." she murmured to herself. It was very nice to say.  
  
*****  
  
"Ooh, very nice," Rose cooed over Jamie's picture the next day. It was off all his mutiples, standing in front of him and taking his picture too. "I like! Very creative." She looked down at Jamie, since she was nearly as tall as Storm, and smiled without baring her teeth. "You should be very proud of this, Jamie."  
  
Jamie smiled and trotted off to his desk, clutching his picture like a golden treasure.  
  
"Scott, please."  
  
Kurt noticed that Scott was looking a tad bit embarrassed as he walked up to present his picture to Rose.  
  
Rose held it delicately like she had ever other student's picture as she looked over it. It was a picture of Jean, sitting in a tree and taking a picture of her own of the setting sun. "This is lovely, Scott," commented Rose honestly. "You 'ave talent as a photographer."  
  
"Thank you, Ms. Blanch-"  
  
"Rose."  
  
"Rose," Scott corrected himself. "Er...do you mind if I have a copy?"  
  
"Of course you are going to get a copy, Scott. I am making a copy of all the students' photos, and also keeping one for myself."  
  
"Oh!" Scotts smiled energetically. "Okay then, here." He walked back to his desk, still grinning.  
  
"Rogue, please."  
  
Rogue proudly showed Rose photo, no fear of being embarrassed. Rose smiled widely. It was a picture of one dying rose and one blooming rose surrounded by fallen petals. She understood it completely. The dying rose was one factor of Rogue's life; the period when she had shunned away everyone upon learning that she was a mutant. The blossoming rose was now; her life was good and only getting better. The fallen petals were the tribulations she had faced, but the blooming rose proved that she had carried on, and flourished. "You put loots of thought into this picture, Rogue. It is vonderful." She put it on the pile with the others and called up Sam, also known by the alias of Cannonball, and took his photo in her gentle hands.  
  
Several things happened at once; Rose's eyes widened, she began to tremble violently, she dropped the photo, and briskly walked out the door. As she walked past, Kurt could hear her muttering in German: "Sie are kommen, sie are kommen..."  
  
They are coming, they are coming...  
  
As soon as the door slammed behind her, all of the students leaped from their seats and to Cannonball. "Whatcha do?" Evan asked.  
  
Sam shook his head and held up the photo. "I like circuses, so I took a photo of a poster that someone put on the gates."  
  
Like he said, the photograph only had a poster on it declaring, COME ONE! COME ALL! COME TO THE ADOLPH & FAMILY CIRCUS AND BE AMAZED!  
  
None of them noticed one very teeny tiny figure at the very bottom, almost too small to see, in the right-hand corner.  
  
The Demoness.  
  
*****  
  
"Alright. Spread out. Bobby, Jamie, Sam, Rogue, Jubilation, take the gardens and woods. Logan, Rahne, Jean, Kitty, Evan, inspect Bayville. Hank, Ray, Roberto, Amara, you look in the lower levels of the Institute, and Storm, Scott, Kurt, and I will search the upper levels."  
  
Everyone did as Xavier said, fanning out in their directed designations. Kurt was scared, REALLY scared. He had no idea what had frightened Rose so badly. She had been here over a week, and he'd never seen her that terrified. Rose was always calm, always gentle, always stable. It was comforting to know a person like that, a person who could be kicked down and only rise again.  
  
But when Rose had fled...it was a tad bit unnerving.  
  
"What could have frightened her to the point of running?" Storm wondered as the three of them traveled up the stairs. Xavier had his own personal elevator to go up and down the levels of the Institute.  
  
"I dunno," answered Scott. "She was looking at Cannonball's photo for her class, and then she freaked and left."  
  
"Ja," Kurt added, nodding to emphasize his point.  
  
"Where is the picture?" Storm demanded.  
  
"Here." Scott fished the photo out of her jean pocket as he ran and handed it to Storm.  
  
"The Adolph & Family circus is coming? How could that frighten her?"  
  
"I do not know," said Xavier as his elevator hit the second floor and met up with his group. "But I could feel her terror at the other side of the mansion. If we are to find any answers, we will have to find her first, and that in itself is quite a challenge."  
  
"How?" Scott asked curiously.  
  
"I suppose I didn't tell you about Rose's power; she can become invisible, so that is why none of the security cameras will pick her up."  
  
"That's going to make it hard!" Kurt exclaimed. He knocked on the first door he came to. "Rose? It is me, Kurt!"  
  
No answer.  
  
In the period of half an hour, the entire Institute and the surrounding land was searched. Every group came back in defeat while Xavier and his posse still searched the huge school.  
  
The last room was Rose's. When they knocked, they heard a faint answer from inside: "Fahren hinweg!"  
  
"Say what?"  
  
"She said, 'Go away!', Scott," Xavier translated. He tapped his knuckles on the door gently. "Rose? It's the professor. Would you like to talk?"  
  
This time, he got a very loud mental answer.  
  
(NO.)  
  
Xavier flinched slightly at the harshness and volume of the mental voice. That was the complete opposite of the usual Rose. (Why not?) Off in the distance of her terrified mind, he heard her repeating one sentence over and over again: (Sie are kommen! Sie are kommen!)  
  
She didn't answer. Xavier sighed. "Rose is refusing to come out or talk to any of us. She's so terrified that she is only speaking in her native tongue and seems to have temporarily forgotten English."  
  
"She's been around Rogue too long," Storm commented dryly, but they knew she was scared by Rose's evanescence. Everyone was worried; everyone had become fond of Rose, even Logan would admit he didn't hate her and that was a plus, and the thought of such a gentle creature being hurt, physically or emotionally, was devastating.  
  
"Maybe you should go in, Kurt," Scott commented. "She likes you the most out of all of us."  
  
Kurt couldn't deny that. Nodding, he opened the door to Rose's bedroom. He realized he'd never been in here; she'd always found him. The furnishings were incredibly well-polished, not a speck of dust to be seen on their maple wood. A bed made for a single person with a large back (or wings, in Rose's case), two bookshelves, a dresser. The books were mainly filled with floral books, but there was also an ancient-looking Bible that Rose had probably brought from Germany and many fiction stories, such as Treasure Island, The Lion, the Witch, and the Wardrobe, Black Beauty, and a very well-thumbed Lord of the Rings: the Fellowship of the Ring. On the dresser was a few clothes that hadn't been folded and put back in yet, along with a German-&-English dictionary on top of them. What really caught a person's eyes were the half dozen posters on the wall; some were in written in English, one in French, and one or two in German. But no matter the dialect, all sported a very fetching picture or painting of Rose, except in the posters called her THE DEMONESS! COME AND OBSERVE THE WORLD'S MOST FABULOUS ACROBAT YOU HAVE EVER AND WILL EVER HAVE THE PLEASURE OF SEEING! The Rose in the pictures looked much younger and happier than she usually did, dressed in such a fashion that made Scott and Kurt blush like nuts. It seemed that she barely even tried to hang onto the thin wire she usually was perched on.  
  
Kurt, Storm, and Scott couldn't help jumping when Rose's quiet voice said, "Rather amusing, ja?"  
  
"Where are you, Rose?" asked Xavier. To keep the other students and teachers from eavesdropping, he closed the door with a click of the lock. "We cannot possibly aid you if you continue to hide from us."  
  
There was an uneasy silence, and then a heavy sigh from Rose. In the corner, Kurt saw her large feet begin to appear, and everything above appeared one at a time, like colored water filling up a cup. She was sitting on the floor with her knees brought up to her chest, hands clasped around her shins, and large wings concealing everything else. Her lengthy tail was lashing back and forth like the pendulum of a grandfather clock; left to right, right to left, left to right. Kurt was astonished. He hadn't even seen a speck of her!  
  
"Now," Xavier said calmly, folding his hands together. "Why did you bolt out of your class, Rose?"  
  
At first, Rose only stared from her position on the floor. She slowly let her wings unfold and stood up to her full height, looking somber and upset. "The Adolph Circus is coming."  
  
"And?" Storm asked.  
  
Another long, uncomfortable pause, and then another low sigh. Rose sat down on the bed and stared hard at the professor. Storm had a frantic thought that she was going to attack Xavier, from the wild look in Rose's eyes, but that was beneath the Demoness. "I once vorked for them, vhen I vas a child, about ten."  
  
Xavier nodded. Rose knew she had no secret from him, so she let her memories rush at him. It was winter when the circus had found her, shuddering and slowly freezing from the frostbite that was slowly claiming her toes and fingers.  
  
"A voman from their troupe saw me as they vere leaving Blanch. She had once been a mother, and vas a grandmother, so she was naturally drawn to me, vhatever my appearance."  
  
An old, wispy woman cautiously walked into the bridge, holding out one wrinkled hand and whispering gentle sentences. After a few seconds, one tiny, misshapen hand reached out for hers, and a tiny and half-frozen Rose walked out, clothed only by her solitary blanket. "Hello," said the old woman cheerfully. "I am Morgana. Who are you, youngling?"  
  
"Rose of the Blanch Bridge," the bone-thin Rose responded.  
  
"That's a big name, child!" Old Morgana swept Rose up in her wizened arms and hugged her like any loving grandmother would. "I shall give you a shorter name...Rose Blanch."  
  
"Old Morgana took me in, caring for me as loving as my first mother had, and more! She taught me how to read and vrite in many languages, along vith how to perform the high-vire act. She had actually done it once, vhen she vas young, and vas fascinated vith my natural talent."  
  
"Come on Rose!" cried Morgana as she watched Rose dangle dozens of feet up in the air. "You can do it! Just don't look down, acushla!"  
  
"I had, at first, started out as part of the freak show, but vhen the ringmaster realized my potential for the high-vire act, I became a main part of the show, practically a star!"  
  
The crowd oohed and ahhed at the sight of the eleven year-old mutant high up, seeming to have her head in heaven. The routine was that Rose did a few flips to warm herself and the crowd up, and then would supposedly "fall" and terrify every person there. She was never scared; after all, she had a built-in parachute. She would then twist her body or grab ahold of the line with her tail and pull herself back up, much to the amazement of the crowd, and continue with her valorous act.  
  
The audience loved it, every time.  
  
"But then...the kind ringleader died of old age. His son, Volfgang Adolph, took control of the circus, and it vas complete hell after that."  
  
A tall, red-headed man, Wolfgang, yelling at Rose, Old Morgana, and the other performers because he had seen one audience member who had yawned. YAWNED! He carried a long, electrical prod made for moving the larger animals like the elephants and draft horses, but not for humans, mutant or non-mutant. It left some nasty burns, which in turn left large, shiny scars.  
  
Rose shook her head and a few tears stained the blue bedspread. "Eventually, I couldn't take it anymore. Vhen I vas fifteen, I fled. That vas ten years ago. I've never been back."  
  
"I see," Xavier murmured. He still felt that Rose was trying to hide something from him, but to simply invade onto her private memories would be a breach of his manners. "Are you alright?" he asked after a long minute of silence.  
  
"Yes," Rose said, seemingly back to normal. She put on a strong face and strode to the door. "I am fine. I really must go copy and frame my new photos." Xavier's telepathy warned him of the dangers beyond the door. "Rose, I wouldn't open that-"  
  
Too late.  
  
"AAAH!" was the simultaneous scream when Rose yanked open her door. Nearly every single student and teacher in the Institute fell onto Rose's feet.  
  
Except Logan, who stood in the back with a toothpick rolling around in his mouth and a smug look on his whiskery face as he said, "I told you that you shouldn't lean on the door." 


	4. Chapter 4

Family Ties: Chapter 4 Ha HA! Praise me, foolish mortals! I have the X-men 2 book! And low and behold.NIGHTCRAWLER! WHOO! Now you'll know who's the person right behind you going, "Psst! Guess what's gonna happen now!" *cackle* Also, I am warning you now: HIGH mushy-ness content. Who? Just read, you. *****  
  
"You sure 'bout this, lady?"  
  
Rose made a face at him, her eyes narrowing. Her tail lashed impatiently against the concrete. "If I vasn't, vould I be here?"  
  
Logan thought about this, rubbing his bristled chin. "Can't argue with that."  
  
Two days after the "photo incident", Rose had seemingly recovered from the fact that her old associates was coming to Bayville. Still, a few of them had noticed that whenever she was watching TV and the commercial came on for the Adolph & Family circus, Rose was usually seen walking, almost running, out of that room, shaking like she had just seen a ghost.  
  
Rose was determined to get over her fear, and decided to take private fighting lessons from Wolverine. She felt that if she could master the arts of defense and attack, maybe her panic might fade and maybe even disappear entirely.  
  
Again, Logan hesitated. After all, he was actually rather found of her.and her cooking. He didn't want to hurt her too badly. She was rather frail. "Are-"  
  
"LOGAN!" roared Rose in a temper completely not her own. Her tail slapped the ground harder than before, making a loud crack! sound on the ground.  
  
She suddenly didn't look all that frail anymore. Now that Logan looked, she was actually very muscled under her brand-new, sleek-fitting uniform. It bared her torso, shoulders, and hips, and the jet black cloth was so dark that she could have walked up to him naked and Logan wouldn't have been able to tell the difference. It was evident that her years of flying on the trapeze had left its legacy behind in her smooth but defined muscles and slender frame. Rose had worn much baggy clothing that Logan had never had the chance to notice it till now.  
  
So why was he looking now?  
  
"Vell?" Rose asked impatiently. Her gaze traveled to the students nearby. A few of them looked uncertain, others looked completely certain.that sweet, fragile Rose was going to get pounded into the dirt. Kurt was one of the latter. "Are ve going to do this or not?"  
  
Logan smiled like a dog that had just found the bone in the center of a steak. A challenge! "Alright. But you'll be the one sorry."  
  
Rose actually laughed. "Ve vill see about that, mein herr."  
  
Logan, of course, had no idea what Rose had called him. "Whatever."  
  
He rushed right at her with a thundering challenge of his own. At first, Rose just stood there, looking as calm as calm could be. The very second that Logan was about to give her a gentle but firm punch, she was gone. He blinked, his brain trying to comprehend what had just happened when his acute senses warned him of something above, coming down on him, fast.  
  
Very fast.  
  
Logan barely had time to react before two outsized feet slammed him into the concrete. Rose jumped away to give him a fair chance, landing with a graceful leap that could have put Nightcrawler to shame. When Logan got back to his feet, he saw a playful smile on her lavender face. She gestured for him to come closer with one lengthy finger.  
  
He only grinned and accepted her invitation, rushing forward a second time. This time, he actually elongated his claws with a faint snikt!. The students were obviously startled that he was actually going to use them in this battle. After all, Demoness had no healing factor like his.  
  
"Your turn," he murmured quietly so that only Rose heard. She grinned toothily and became invisible yet again. Logan wondered how to best counteract this and realized his eyes would only cripple him. He closed them, letting his ears and nose take over.  
  
At first, he heard and smelt nothing. But then.  
  
The slight noise of a long tail moving along the floor. Her odd smell of books and cooking trickled into his sensitive nostrils. Wait.wait.  
  
"Ha!" Logan swerved around, his claws nearly impaling Rose as she reappeared behind him. Only her agility save her from being shish kebab on pure admantium. She responded with agility that Logan had seen only Mystique perfect, that sort of grace that made her movements look almost fluid.  
  
With another shout, he lashed out again, but hit only air. Rose had already seen that coming and had leapt straight up, nearly seven feet into the air. There, she found a tree branch and grasped it with hands, toes, and tail. For a moment, she looked like an oversized picture of a monkey in the Amazon from National Geographic.  
  
But that was only for a split second. The next, she bounded off and landed on all fours onto their "fighting arena". Otherwise known as the garage.  
  
The two of them stared at one another for nearly thirty seconds. Logan evaluated how Rose was doing. She was actually doing better than he first thought. He could hear her heart pounding, saw her chest heaving in and out, and smelt her sweat. But she hadn't given up, and that impressed him. On all four of her odd appendages, with her wings full extended, blood- red pupils blazing and violet skin glistening with sweat, she seemed to be living up to her alias, and then some. She truly would have been frightening if he didn't know the saintly soul inside.  
  
She leapt again, but missed him entirely. Logan realized that she had meant to fly past him. Just as he turned around, he felt her large feet clamp themselves onto his waist, a large mighty tail wrap around his legs, and two-digit hands grip his head, rendering him helpless.  
  
He held his breath, actually in a state of shock of how she kept him in place. "You're good," he panted to her quietly.  
  
"If I vasn't, I vouldn't be alive, Volverine," she murmured in his ear. One curl of purple hair fell past his neck. The silkiness of it made Logan think of the slick skin of a python. Goose bumps rose on his arms and neck.  
  
"Ready to give up, Logan?"  
  
He took a deep breath, then released it. "Sure. Why not?"  
  
Slowly, Rose released her control on him. The minute she let go he spun around and administered a hard-core punch smack in her face. She staggered and fell backwards. For a few tantalizing moments, she sat up and smiled sweetly at him, like he had done nothing more than give her a compliment. "Nice punch," she commented, brushing away the small line of blood from her chin. Her voice was practically dripping with amusement, and that entertained Logan greatly.  
  
He actually laughed and walked over, extending a hand to help her up. Rose gladly took it, pulling on it to hoist herself up. That, and with Logan's own towing, jerked her up quickly. She lost her balance and collapsed in his arms.  
  
Time stopped. The students, the trees, everything was slower now. Rose, out of pure instinct and from past events, instantly thought of fleeing, of becoming invisible and slinking off.  
  
But the strength in Logan's rough and tough arms caught her by surprise. It wasn't the horrible, ruthless strength that she had suffered; it was the kind that offered protection and comfort. Rose found herself captured by his gaze, a prisoner of his hardened eyes.  
  
Logan was likewise having an unexpected reaction as well. As always, he had nearly pushed her away like he did everyone else. Had she been a man, Logan probably would have punched her again. And yet, something held him back. He had never noticed just how curved, sleek, and smooth her body was until this moment. Her slick uniform was wet with her sweat, as did her fur, but he found the smell not disgusting, but rather. relaxing. That wasn't the only smell on her; she had the fragrance of fresh-baked bread, of rice paper with ink painstakingly written with care on them. She smelled of every single flower in the garden; rose, lily, daisy, you name it. The strongest smell that Logan caught, however, was fear.  
  
Rose was afraid; afraid of touching someone, of being touched, in any shape, form, or fashion. Logan felt a small shudder pass through her. I'm scaring her! he thought, feeling a bit rejected.  
  
He gently let her go, releasing his tight grip on her waist. She unraveled her tail and arms from his chest, gave him one last, fearful look, then left the garage, leaving behind one very confused wolverine.  
  
*****  
  
"They sooo obviously like each other!" Kurt gloated at school later that day, propping his feet on the table to balance at a precarious angle while sipping on his soda. Plastered on his smug face was a confident smirk.  
  
"Duh," Kitty said sarcastically, fingering her roadkill, otherwise known as meatloaf. "You'd have to be, like, blind to not notice it!"  
  
"Huh! Probably even the dead saw it!" remarked Rogue with a sly smile.  
  
"So." Scott paused, giving the moment a dramatic air as the other X- men members stared curiously at him, and folded his fingers together. "How do we get them together?"  
  
"Scott!" protested Jean, looking appalled by his question. "I can't believe you would say something like that!" She sat down in a huff. The force of her anger had her hair floating around her like a royal red cloud. "If they want to get together, it's entirely none of our business. We have to stay out of it."  
  
Blank stares all around.  
  
Kurt yawned. This was so NOT the way he wanted to handle this new game. "Vhatever." He turned back to the others, an impish gleam in his eyes. "How do ve get them together? They like each other, but I don't think they're going to say so."  
  
"Kurt!" snarled Jean. She was like a bulldog about these things. There wasn't a way to shake her off until she wanted to or you conceded. She usually won.  
  
The Nightcrawler ignored her completely. "Maybe more training sessions?"  
  
"No," sighed Rogue glumly. "Rose said she wasn't going to do that anymore."  
  
"Oh. Vell, how about ve get them together on the Blackbird on a mission.a fake mission!"  
  
"Are you kidding?" Kitty said, her voice dripping with scorn. "The prof would kill us."  
  
"Vell I don't see YOU thinking anything up!" Kurt cried, throwing his hands up. Unfortunately for him, that sent his chair tipping all the way back. He landed butt-first on hard, solid concrete. The others laughed as he rubbed his distressed behind. "Ha, ha, laugh it up." He bounded back onto the chair, like the fall had never happened. And then it came to him. "Vell.how about this."  
  
*****  
  
Later that evening.  
  
"Arrgh!"  
  
Logan was going to blow his top.  
  
His all-time favorite motorcycle had been tampered with. If Sam and those other brats had been joyriding again.snikt!  
  
With a tolerating sigh, he kneeled, grabbed a nearby case of tools, and went to work. A screw there, tighten another here...  
  
"Logan?"  
  
Logan turned around and faced Rose. She stood in the doorway in a pair of baggy P-Js, apparently ready for bed. In her hands were a sketchbook and a 2B pencil. She smiled at him. "Is something vrong vith your bike?"  
  
"Yeah. The motor wouldn't run."  
  
"Ah." She walked down the steps carefully, her silky nightgown gleaming in the faint light of the garage. Sitting down on the stool next to Logan, she said, "I am afraid I vould not be much help, mein herr."  
  
"What does that mean, anyway?"  
  
"It means 'my master' or something like that."  
  
Logan let out a gruff laugh at that. "Master, eh? How about we just stick with Logan?"  
  
Rose shrugged it. "Okay."  
  
She sat silently, watching him work, curse, growl and snarl, then work again. To her amazement, he got a lot done, despite the fact that he seemed to be using more gnarls than tools. She had a sudden stroke of genius and began to sketch as he worked, cursed, growled, and snarled.  
  
Half an hour afterwards, Logan washed his hands clean of oil and sweat having finally finished. He looked over at Rose sitting cross-legged on the stool, drawing like madwoman. How she held that pencil remained a complete and total mystery to him.  
  
He strolled over and peered over her shoulder. His eyes widened to their largest at the "sketch" she had done of him and his motorcycle; it was like she had taken a black-and-white photograph of him. Every hair on his body, every muscle, every screw and gleam of metal on the bike, had been defined to the point where it looked like the drawing was going to leap right off the canvas and drive away.  
  
"That's good," he said with real meaning.  
  
Rose didn't answer him immediately; she was working on his head, adding in the very last lock of hair. When she finished, she slowly turned to him and looked him right in the eye. "You think so?"  
  
"Yeah."  
  
This truly delighted Rose. "Thank you.Logan." He sat down next to her, still admiring the picture. He noticed her flinch and, with the gracefulness of a lioness, slipped away until she was nearly on the edge of the bench.  
  
"What? Did I do something?"  
  
"No!" she said, waving her hands, then letting them fall into her lap. She stared hard at the floor, remaining silent for almost a minute. Logan waited until she let out a heavy sigh. "I am sorry. It.is not you, honest."  
  
"You have bad experience with some guy?"  
  
Rose jerked her eyes from the floor and stared at him. "Yes. Actually, more than one.but one in particular."  
  
"Uh-huh."  
  
She stared at him again, her eyes uncharacteristically dull and morose. "Volfgang. He.thought of me as little more than property, you can say."  
  
"Okay. This Wolfgang sounds like a jerk."  
  
"A vhat?"  
  
"A jerk. A royal asshole."  
  
Rose smiled at this. Logan thought that she had a nice smile, at least when she didn't flash those killer molars at you. "I see. Yes.Volfgang is most certainly a jerk."  
  
"Nice to know we agree on something."  
  
She laughed! Outstanding!  
  
Both of them stood up. Because of her bones mutating so that she only stood on the balls and toes of her large feet, she actually stood taller than he did. Logan found this a tad bit amusing; it felt kind of cool to look up to her.  
  
To his surprised, she stumbled and was saved by a hard meeting with the floor by his arms. She let out a small shiver, then decided that maybe this man was different. She folded against him, leaning her head on his shoulder for support, putting her whole body weight on him. He took this with ease.  
  
"You okay?" he asked her softly. "When was the last time you slept?'  
  
"Honest?" She paused, a slightly amused grin on her face. "Not since I found out the circus vas coming."  
  
"That long? Jeez, you really are scared of this guy, huh?"  
  
Grimly, she nodded her head. STUPID! he cursed himself. Apparently, no matter how much you learned about women, you always had something to learn. He looked at her. She deliberately kept her gaze from his, apparently trying to keep him and his impulses at bay.  
  
It wasn't working.  
  
Logan was barely breathing, not wanting to ruin such a delicate moment. Rose felt and smelled his breath on her skin and her mouth involuntarily opened in response. Her head tilted the slightest bit, to give Logan an easier access.  
  
The kiss was there, begging to be had. Any other tie, he wouldn't have paused. But now he did, his keen senses telling him every feeling she was experiencing: lust, excitement.fear. Fear of what?  
  
Their conversation from less than a second ago slapped him in the face. How could he be so stupid as to forget already! He could have punched himself full in the face for making such a dim-witted move.  
  
"They were all the same," Rose whispered, her wispy gray eyes no longer avoiding his but staring, goggle-eyed, right at his. "All of them only vanted one thing.and they alvays got it.couldn't stop them.they vouldn't leave me alone..." She began to tremble like she had earlier that very same day. Her eyes were perfect copies of deer caught in the headlights of a vehicle, unable to move, unable to defend herself, unable to run at all.  
  
"Rose." He pulled her closer, trying to comfort her from the inner demons that tormented her. It wasn't a Wolverine move.but Logan was still human. Whether he liked to admit it or not, he had a heart of gold encased by a solid coat of admantium. She still shook in his grasp, hands clawing into his shirt and tearing the fabric, preparing herself for what was going to happen next as her lips brushed his.  
  
It was like fireworks had exploded inside his skull. The first contact was exactly like tasting sugar for the first time in your life. It stuck with you, making your body beg for more, screaming for one more taste.  
  
There was moistness on his cheek. Logan opened his eyes and saw that her tears had fallen on his cheeks. "It's okay, Rose," he said, brushing the tears from both his and her face. "It's alright. I'm not like them."  
  
She, too, opened her eyes. It was painstakingly clear to see that she found that hard to believe. "Really?"  
  
Logan smiled. "Really."  
  
She began to tremble again, but this wasn't the shiver of facing a horrible fear. This was the shiver of receiving a wonderful gift, something she would treasure forever. She kissed him, willingly, on the cheeks and lips. Neither said a thing; what could they say? There were no words that were needed. Not now, perhaps ever.  
  
Rose was awestruck at this man, this Wolverine. He was most certainly not like any other man she had met; he cared for what she thought, what she felt, and would cease if she asked him to. There was no fear of him now. Quite the contrary, she had been worried of him being frightened of her. It made her heart and soul ache.  
  
Logan wanted to kiss her again, more than he wanted to know about his past, more than the very breath he drew.  
  
But she shook her head, drawing away. "Logan, no," she pleaded, her eyes brimming with tears. "I'm not ready.not yet."  
  
Against every instinct and urge surging through his body and soul, he nodded and watched as she strode away, leaving behind her wonderful picture. Logan had a feeling that she meant to. This isn't me, not at all, he thought to himself. Every challenge he had faced had been ripped into shreds with pure physical strength and stamina. Nothing had stood in the way of the Wolverine.  
  
Until Rose.  
  
Odd how the fierce beast had been bested by a single flower. 


	5. Chapter 5

Family Ties: Chapter 5 A/N: WOWEE! This fic's been up on the net less than a week, and already has over two reviews. *sniff, sniff* You LIKE me! You really LIKE me! X-men countdown: 1 month and 18 days. Give or take.  
  
*****  
  
Rose sat in her room, gazing at her old circus posters. They had company now; they had been joined by many of the framed photos that her student's taken the other day, along with a trio sketches she herself had done. One was of Xavier in his wheelchair, facing the gardens, with a pleasured look on his face. Another was of Evan skateboarding, pulling a 180, or whatever he called those odd moves of his. The last was a copy of the drawing she had done of Logan and his Harley motorcycle. That one was her favorite.  
  
But her attention was not on that at the moment. It was on the Sam's photo. Unlike the kids, she had noticed the tiny figure of herself in the bottom. She began to wonder about a quote she had read somewhere: "The only thing we have to fear is fear itself."  
  
Should she really be cowering like a dog? For all she knew, Wolfgang was no longer the ringmaster of the Adolph & Family Circus. If he wasn't, what was there to be afraid of?  
  
Rose frowned, utterly disgusted at her behavior. She was most certainly NOT setting a good example for Kurt and Rogue. And would she act like this forever? Hiding for fear that old nightmares would rise again to torment her as they had at the tender age of fifteen?  
  
"No," she said firmly, rising from her bed, her eyes stern and hold. She walked out the door and walked into the professor.  
  
"Good morning, Rose."  
  
"Good morning, Professor." She watched him roll away, then had a wild but inspiring thought. "Professor?"  
  
Xavier stopped rolling and turned back to face her. "Yes?"  
  
She paused, suddenly uncertain of her decision. She threw caution to the winds. "How about I take the students on a.field trip?"  
  
*****  
  
Clowns with too-large-to-be-real noses. Kids with ice cream. Elephants sending shudders through the ground with ever step.  
  
And one huge, colorful sign blaring, "WELCOME!"  
  
The teens, although they had at first thought that they were far too old for this, couldn't help but stare at all the flashing colors swirling around them. Every time you turned.kapow! You were pummeled with all the intensity and energy. The very air crackled with commotion.  
  
Rose, on the other hand, was completely calm. She was used to all the color, people, and animals. She strode through the crowd like she owned the place, steering her posse of teenagers through the crowd with expertise. Logan had also tagged along, just to make sure that this Wolfgang guy didn't try something on Rose.  
  
If he could recognize her. Rose had recently been given a holowatch like Kurt's that hid her true form and gave the appearance of a Caucasian woman in her prime. Quite a few men had given her a look, but she ignored them every single one. That absolutely delighted Logan.  
  
"Let's find our seats," Rose said, pointing to the dozens of benches inside the largest tent, the main arena. It had to stand at least a hundred feet high, supported by thick wood beams. On these beams were the high-wire and the trapeze. Along the floor was your basic circus stuff; a cage for the "ferocious" tigers and lions, miscellaneous toys for the clowns to use, and the small stands for the elephants to pose on in ways that nature had never intended them to.  
  
They took their seats and patiently waited, exchanging popcorn, Twizzlers, and Pepsi. Rose only nibbled and sipped. She looked relaxed.until you noticed that her eyes were darting every which direction, her fingers clenching and unclenching in tight fists, and her breathing was a little more forced than usual. Every muscle on her body, every sense, was ready for fight or flight.  
  
When the arena darkened, she jumped. Logan put a strong and comforting hand on her shoulder, squeezing it to give her reassurance. She settled and attempted a smile. "Thank you for coming, Logan."  
  
"No big deal."  
  
Rose was about to reply when Kitty raised her finger to her lips in the universal sign of silence. A trio of spotlights swirled around the tent and finally stopping on a single figure. Logan smelled the now-familiar odor of fear emitting from Rose so strongly that he was surprised that the kids didn't pick it up. "Wolfgang?" he whispered in ear.  
  
"Ja," she said, her voice no more than a whisper, struggling not to break. "That's him."  
  
"Welcome" Wolfgang bellowed, somehow making his voice amplify without a bullhorn, "to the Adolph & Family circus!" He paused to allow the audience to clap. Rose didn't clap. "For the first time in America, I give you the most talented and wondrous performers you will ever see!" He gestured to the dark arena. "And heeeere's.Frederick Greene, the King of Fire!"  
  
Rose jumped in her seat. Logan, with his hand still on her shoulder, felt her fur stand on end. Her fear had been replaced with excitement and anticipation. Eyes went wide, pupils dilating to their limits.  
  
A small man stood in the arena. He looked like a small mountain, and had a physique that would have made him the perfect linebacker for the Dallas Cowboys, or any other NFL team. But his face told otherwise: it had a friendly quality to it, the kind of thing you'd expect from an older brother or a father. It made you want to trust him.  
  
Frederick bowed gracefully as the spectators cheered, hooted, clapped, and whistled. As soon as that faded, he straightened his back and held up two sticks, showing them to the audience to assure them that there wasn't a trick up his sleeve. Holding one stick out, he inhaled deeply, then let it all out in a rush.  
  
Instantly, the stick was aflame. The crowd loved it, as did Rose and Logan's wards. Even Logan let a smile creep onto his face until he looked over at Rose. She was staring at Frederick, but not the in the frightened way she had at Wolfgang. This was.different, and it worried him.  
  
Frederick set the end of the second stick and left it there until it, too, was lit. Holding one stick in each hand, he preceded to toss and twirl them agilely, not missing a beat. After five whole minutes, he held the pair up, and slammed the flaming ends together. They instantly smoked and both flames were put out.  
  
Again, the crowd absolutely adored the spectacular performance. All the kids from the Institute stood up with the audience and clapped. Only Rose and Logan remained seated. "You know that guy?" Logan asked, gesturing to the man.  
  
"Yes." Logan was disappointed to see that Rose was still staring at Frederick with that odd gaze.  
  
"'Kay." He slumped in his seat huffily as Wolfgang introduced the next act. This wasn't why he came.  
  
*****  
  
"Man, that was sooo awesome, vasn't Kitty?"  
  
"Oh yeah!" Kitty said. Her eyes were laughing with delight and wonderment. They were still talking about the performances. "I loved that Frederick guy, he was, like, so cool."  
  
As the kids, being kids, gossiped in the way that made everything else unimportant, Rose led them to the back of the circus where all the backstage things happened. Memory upon memory flooded into her mind; that trailer! That's where she'd grown up! And that stain on the tent! She'd done that when she spilled her juice, when she was ten! Everything reminded her of something or someone.  
  
As if he had teleported, Frederick appeared out of thin air, drying his sweat-soaked hair with a towel. Rose's heart jumped into her throat. The last time she had seen that man, he'd been a gangly, fire-breather wannabe with his soot-colored hair cut so short that she had often made fun of him, asking him if he had lost a fight with a lawnmower.  
  
But now.he was.so different. Hair had grown into a luscious mane of ebony curls. Green eyes shone so brightly that they would have done emeralds proud. His muscled, coffee-colored skin rippled under the orange and red tights, flaunting ever curve and dip on his body.  
  
He turned around, apparently startled to see them out here. "I'm sorry," he said. Rose instantly the difference in his voice; it had gotten stronger.deeper. libidinous, some how. "But you are not allowed back here." He bowed politely. "My deepest apologies."  
  
Rose managed to shake some sense back into her head. "Oh, really?" She sauntered up to him, ignoring a sputter from Logan. "'Ave you forgotten old companions already, Icky?" She put a hand on his arm. She knew good and well that even though the holowatch hid her true aspect, it didn't stop people from feeling fur and only two fingers instead of the usual four.  
  
Frederick's eyes widened. "Rose?" he breathed. "It can't be."  
  
"Oh, can't it?"  
  
He paused. "Prove it."  
  
She grinned energetically. "Du are a der Esel."  
  
He smiled back at her, green eyes dancing. "Nice to see you again, Rose."  
  
Rose shut off her holowatch. "Nice to see you too, Icky."  
  
"Aren't you ever gonna call me Frederick?" he sighed dramatically.  
  
"If you say please," she teased.  
  
At that moment, a young girl burst out of the trailer behind them. "Frederick! I've can't find-"  
  
She stopped dead in her tracks at the sight of Rose, goggle-eyed. Rose looked exactly the same. The girl was only about ten, her thick red hair swept back and kept in place by a pair of bobby pins. Her features were pleasant, but sharp, features. The ashen-colored eyes in her head snapped with the speed of a snake, taking in every single thing about Rose's odd appearance, along with her company.  
  
Frederick, wishing to ease the tension, walked over and put one muscled arm around the girl's shoulders. "This, Rose and co., is Adelaide. She's the recent lady of the trapeze. Adelaide, say hello."  
  
"Hello," Adelaide said, still staring at Rose. Rose didn't mind. She was used to it.  
  
The students, Rose, and Logan all said their greetings. Frederick turned his gaze back to Rose. "So.you've come back to the circus business? Finally find that brother of yours, eh?"  
  
Rose smiled brightly, showing all her teeth. Adelaide gasped. "Yes! Yes, I did." She motioned for Kurt to come over. "This is Kurt Wagner. Kurt, this is Frederick Greene."  
  
"Nice ta meet ya, young man!" As soon as Frederick shook Kurt's hand, he added, "You look like your pretty sis' over there, don't you?" He cocked his head, flashing a friendly smile. "You purple too?"  
  
Kurt cast a glance over at Rose and Logan, who nodded their assent. Seeing it was okay, Kurt dropped the hologram. Again, Adelaide gasped in shock.  
  
"Hey!" cried Frederick, not at all frightened. "You DO look like Rose! Ha! I knew it!" He looked over at Rose. "Lots of fuzzies in your family tree, eh, Rose?"  
  
Rose was about to answer when Evan blurted out, "How do breath fire like that?"  
  
All of the teens chattered about how he did his trick. Frederick only chuckled. "No trick, kids." He gestured for a stick and Adelaide handed him a branch from the ground. "Watch and learn." Just like in the arena, he inhaled and exhaled. The stick obediently lit on fire. The kids all applauded politely.  
  
Pointing to the stick, he said, "See, that's my ability; I can make just about anything 'cept water light on fire."  
  
Kurt's eyes widened. "You're a-"  
  
"A mutant? Sure! Ain't ashamed to admit it, either. After all, look where it's got me!" He defused the flame and swept the stick to the colossal tents behind them. "The big top!"  
  
Suddenly, his expression changed from glee to panic. Rose turned and jerked like she'd just had her tail stuck in a light socket.  
  
Wolfgang was approaching. "Kurt!" snarled Rose. "Put your vatch back on!"  
  
Kurt had already activated his holowatch the second the ringmaster was in sight. Logan looked Wolfgang up and down. He didn't look all that alarming; his flaming red hair was shoulder-length, left to float in the breeze. His face was sharp, like Adelaide's, fairly handsome, although he couldn't hold a candle to Frederick. He had a lighter in hand, a Zippo, and was casually flicking the lid back and forth, making a clicking sound that really, really irritated Logan.  
  
The second he saw Rose, his dirt-brown eyes glittered. "Rose?" If he saw Rose tense, he ignored it. "My, my, Demoness, you've come back to us. Dare I hope you've come back to stay?" he asked in a sultry voice that sent chills up even Logan's back. A few of the students shivered and stepped away from the ringmaster. Wolfgang reached over and took both of Rose's hands in his own. She flinched, and this time he noticed. "Ah.I see that isn't the case." Looking over at Adelaide and Frederick, like he had just noticed them, he said, "Oh, visiting old friends? I suppose you missed us and wanted to pay a visit?"  
  
"You could say that," she answered, her eyes dull. She slipped her hands out of his, leaving him grasping at open air. Logan almost snorted with amusement.  
  
"I see." He glanced at Logan and the troop of kids, and grinned. It was a very feline grin, like a cat's when it has caught a mouse and was toying with it before eating. "Starting a circus of your own?"  
  
"No," Rose said, her tone of voice as flat as paper. "These are students from Xavier's Institute for Gifted Children. And he-" she gestured to Logan, who brought himself to his full height "-is Logan, a dear friend of mine."  
  
Wolfgang flinched at "dear", which seemed to please Rose greatly. "Oh."  
  
Rose reactivated her own watch and turned on her heel. "Come children, Logan. We really need to get going back to the school now." As she walked, she slowed by Frederick and Adelaide. In the blink of an eye, she crushed a piece of paper into Frederick's hand as she passed. "Goodbye."  
  
"Wait!" Wolfgang cried, grasping Rose's wrist. She whirled on him, her gaze full of fear and hate, but Wolfgang didn't seem to notice. "Why don't you stay a while? Chat with old compatriots?" His tone of voice, the look in his eyes, and his body language all together seemed a little desperate to keep Rose there.  
  
He and Rose glared at one another for a full minute. The air filled with tension until Frederick gently reached over and pulled Wolfgang's hand off of Rose's wrist. "I believe she said that she needs to go, Wolfgang, sir."  
  
Wolfgang glared, half-snarled, at Frederick, then turned back to Rose with a sweet smile plastered on his face. "Why don't you come by sometime? Just you? We can all sit down and talk."  
  
Rose curled her lip and walked away with her charges and Logan by her side, not answering at all.  
  
Wolfgang royally cursed himself. He'd finally hunted her down, and she was gone AGAIN. He whirled on Frederick and Adelaide, although she had done nothing wrong. "Both of you! Manure duty! Fred, I'll talk to YOU later."  
  
As the pair stalked off to their duties, Wolfgang stared after Rose, growling softly in his throat. Then he noticed a piece of paper on the ground. Curious, he plucked it up and read it. A slow, cat-like grin spread across his face. Right there was Rose's current address.  
  
He looked back up to catch one last glance at Rose climbing into a car and driving away. "Oh, yes. You're my ticket to fame, Demoness, and you'll get me there whether you want to or not." 


	6. Chapter 6

Family Ties: Chapter 6 A/N: Just wanted to explain something about my description of Kurt and Rose's father. See, we've all probably asked this question: WHY did Mystique adopt Rogue in the first place? My theory is that maybe she had already lost Kurt.maybe she wanted a child to replace him? And why not adopt a kid that looked like your past lover, for comfort, eh? But, hey, don't listen to me. I just write fics.  
  
*****  
  
"New Mutant Alert," blared Cerebro, alerting Professor Xavier to the arising of a new mutant. "New Mutant Alert."  
  
Jean, Rose, and Storm stood behind Xavier as he searched for the position of this new mutant. A profile of a young boy popped up. He looked fairly normal; kind regular features, blue eyes, and curly hair so light blonde it almost looked white. Only one thing really set him apart.  
  
He had feathers from shoulder to wrist, ranging in shades from light tan to a dark brown. His feet and hands had the usual five digits, except they were more curved in, like a raptor's talons, and had longish claws on each finger or toe.  
  
"Aiden Thompson. Twelve years of age, currently living in Japan, in Tokyo, with adopted parents." Xavier peered closer to the screen. "It seems that he has the ability to create some rather powerful winds, even tornadoes."  
  
"Charming," Storm mumbled to Rose. The other woman chuckled.  
  
"Okay," announced Jean. "Let's go find him, before Magneto or Mystique does." Looking over at Rose and Storm, she asked, "You coming?"  
  
Rose nodded. "I vould love to, Jean. I vill go varm up the Blackbird."  
  
*****  
  
"Thrusts ready?" Jean asked as she flipped on the switches.  
  
Storm sat in the seat opposite of the left-hand pilot's seat. Rose sat behind her, a tad bit uncomfortable due to the combination of the small chair and her large wingspan. "Ready."  
  
"Then we have liftoff!"  
  
The Blackbird shuddered as it lifted into the air, and within minutes, it and her passengers were on their way to Japan. Since the trip would take almost half an hour, the travelers chattered about this new place, and of how they should approach young Aiden.  
  
"I have alvays vondered vhat Japan vas like," Rose said, fingering her chin. "Is it not the same as China?"  
  
"Actually, no," Storm answered. "The culture and language is very different from China's."  
  
"I see." Rose shifted her wings so that she could look out the window at the clouds zooming by. "How do ve approach him? I have a feeling he von't be expecting us."  
  
"Well, according to Cerebro, Aiden's mutation was much like Hank's; it lay dormant until puberty, then abruptly happened in a time of stress."  
  
"Vhat kind of stress?"  
  
Storm laughed casually. "He had his first zit."  
  
"Ouch!"  
  
"Anyway, he's most likely not to happy about his appearance, and might not be aware of his powers yet, and might attack us out of fear." She turned a glance to Rose, who returned the look. As much as Storm hated to say it, Rose was a child's worst nightmare given physical form to someone who didn't know her.  
  
This didn't bother Rose at all. "I vill be careful vith him."  
  
"We're here," Jean declared in a perfect copy of a stewardess. "Welcome to Japan."  
  
"So vhere do ve find Aiden?" Rose asked curiously. "I have heard that Japan is very populated, with loots of people."  
  
Xavier's thoughts brushed easily into their minds, even over the distance between him and the Blackbird. (You will find him, like I said, in Tokyo. But even then, you might not find it too simple.)  
  
"Boy, you're optimistic," Jean said aloud as she steered the ship down into a clear field several miles from Tokyo. They only left after all the shields on the Blackbird had been raised, protecting it from both sight and radar, and the only way someone could have found it was to walk right into it.  
  
Once they reached the suburbs of Tokyo, hidden in a cloak of fog thanks to Storm, Jean was able to pinpoint Aiden's location: a large, abandoned hotel with a hand-written sign nailed to the front proclaiming, DANGEROUS! DO NOT ENTER! To back this up, the large, once-beautiful doors were locked shut.  
  
"It vould appear that Aiden likes his privacy?" Rose joked lightly.  
  
"Apparently." Storm prepared to blast down the doors with a huge gust of wind when Jean put her hand on the older woman's shoulder.  
  
"He's not in the building."  
  
"But you said-" Rose began.  
  
Jean shook her head and pointed upward. "He's on the hotel." Rose and Storm followed her finger and barely noticed a small shed on the top. "Demoness?" she asked, using Rose's alias for the first time. "Could you possibly fly us up there?"  
  
Rose stood silent for a moment, mentally configuring her strength, the height of the structure, and the weight of her two friends. "I believe so, with some effort." She spread her wings out wide until they were at their full length, the measure of a Volkswagen, and put one arm around each passenger's waist. They in turn held tight to Rose's suit. "Hold tight."  
  
With a rush of wind, Rose started to flap and became airborne. The force of her flying whipped the air around Storm and Jean; their hair stung and bit their faces as Rose soared upward. Even with their eyes closed, the dirt invaded and attacked mercilessly.  
  
Storm chanced a quick look up at Rose, and saw that the Demoness was doing no better than they were. Her violet hair stuck to her sweaty face as she struggled to stay in the air and not doom all of them by failing. "Rose! Can you make it?"  
  
"I-think-so," panted Rose just as she reached the last floor. The second they reached the roof, her wings decided they'd had enough, and promptly gave up. All three women collapsed onto the hard concrete, each giving their own individual curse or groan. Rose said nothing, only lay on her back and panted, gulping in breath after breath.  
  
"Are you alright?" Jean demanded as she kneeled by her, genuinely concerned.  
  
"Yes, yes!" replied Rose, slapping both Jean and Storm away as she rose. Painstakingly exhausted wings refused to fold back into their normal position, so Rose was forced simply let them drag. "But next time.ve take the stairs."  
  
Storm couldn't help a small chuckle. She stared at the cement roof they were on. It looked normal enough, with a heater and an air conditioner side by side, a door connected to an upraised slap of concrete leading down to a flight of stairs. But the shed was no longer there. She narrowed her eyes and spied a small piece of wood just behind the door. Gesturing to it, she asked Jean, "There?"  
  
"Yep."  
  
They strolled over to the shed. Storm knocked politely on the door. "Aiden?"  
  
A muffled sentence from behind the door, but all three women could only guess at its meaning: "Go away!"  
  
Rose stepped forward, using her silky voice to its highest, the kind of voice you expect from a kindly female relative. "Aiden? Could you come out?"  
  
"No!"  
  
"Vhy not?"  
  
"Cause."  
  
"Because of vhat?"  
  
A small, weeping sniffle. "Cause I'm a freak, that's 'vhat'."  
  
"Oh, really? Vell, vhy don't you come out, and let my friends and I be the judge of that?"  
  
A long pause. "You won't scream?"  
  
Rose smiled softly, remembering that she had said the same thing to hundreds of people before revealing herself. "Of course not, Aiden."  
  
A second, even longer cease of speech. Finally, the door cracked open to reveal the tear-streaked face of Aiden Thompson. His curls were hidden by a New York Yankees baseball cap. In fact, he seemed to be a walking billboard for them; not just the hat, but his coat and shirt proclaimed his love and loyalty to the team, but the due to the foot-long feathers on his arms, the coat was tied around his waist instead. Storm saw something that Cerebro had not shown them: Although his eyes were blue, the pupil was a slit instead of pupil, more cat-like than human. "See?" the boy demanded through the tears. "I am a freak!"  
  
"No you aren't," replied Rose. Aiden hadn't seen her at first, since she had stood just behind the open door, and his eyes and pupils widened as he took in her unusual appearance, forgetting Storm and Jean completely.  
  
"Man, you're cool-lookin'," he breathed, totally in awe.  
  
Rose's dark complexion didn't allow her blush to show through, and for that, she was eternally grateful. "Vhy, danken du, Aiden."  
  
"Du are willkommen."  
  
A bright smile appeared on Rose's face. "You speak German, mein herr?"  
  
Aiden beamed back at her, wiping away his tears on the edge of one coat sleeve. "Uh-huh. And French, Japanese, Spanish, and a little Latin, too."  
  
"Impressive," Jean commented, folding her arms. Aiden noticed the other two women for the first time and said, "You mutants, too, or are you the police?"  
  
"We are most definitely not the police," Storm answered with a snort.  
  
"So.who are you?" Aiden asked, a tone of suspicion in his voice.  
  
Walking over and placing comforting hands on the boy's shoulders, Jean said, "We're here to ask you if you will be willing to join us at Xavier's Institute for gifted youngsters, like yourself."  
  
"Ya mean like smart kids?"  
  
Rose gave him a toothy, but friendly, grin. It didn't seem to bother Aiden as much as his own appearance did. "Vere ve not specific on 'gifted' youngsters?"  
  
Aiden's intellect popped into gear. "Oh." He seemed doubtful. "Would the other kids.would they be afraid of me?"  
  
"Of course not," Storm said firmly. "We have quite a few residents that do not look all that normal, such as Rose," she added, sweeping a hand to indicate the Demoness.  
  
Again, the boy paused. Sensing the boy's discomfort, Jean assured him, "If you are worried about your parents, they will be notified immediately."  
  
Aiden scowled and let out scornful raspberry. "They didn't care at all. They're the ones who kicked me out of their house. They're big anti- muties.  
  
Rose's lip curled in disgust at such behavior, especially coming from adults! She struggled to keep her anger invisible and said, "Then ve von't bother vith them, Aiden. Vould you like to come vith us?"  
  
"Yes," Aiden said. "But I don't understand something."  
  
"What?"  
  
Aiden leaned on one leg and gave them a typical "duh" look. "Are your names really Demoness and Storm?"  
  
"Actually, no. I am Rose Blanch, and these are my good friends and companions, Ororo Monroe, and Jean Grey."  
  
"So what's up with the code names and suits and stuff?"  
  
"Because," Jean said, "if some people knew our real names and appearances, they might hurt people we know and love to get back at us."  
  
"That's rude."  
  
"Sure is. Ready to go?"  
  
"Yeah." As the women turned to go, holding tight onto Rose, he added, "Do I get a code name?"  
  
Rose paused. "Live vhat?"  
  
Aiden stopped to think. "Well.how about.Twister, since I make tornadoes and stuff?"  
  
"I love it." She nodded to the sky. "Come on, let's fly."  
  
"F-f-fly?" Aiden looked over the edge. "I can fly, yeah, but I've never been up this far!"  
  
"Then how'd you get up here?" Storm asked sarcastically.  
  
"Stairs."  
  
"You can fly," said Jean, wincing as Rose began to flap and rise upwards. "Just have to try."  
  
Aiden looked at them doubtfully, then jumped off the edge. For a split second, all three women were terrified he wouldn't catch a breeze after all, but he opened his arms and flew upward. "Whoo! That's better than any roller coaster I've been on!"  
  
***** As that day and the next passed, Twister sticked close to Rose, his idol besides the all-holy Yankees. Everyone supposed it was because Rose was odd-looking, and Aiden was odd-looking, and the young boy took comfort in that.  
  
And Rose appreciated the company. She had never like being alone, and Aiden was a good boy. They had many things in common besides their alarming looks; he had a deep passion for drawing, flying, and nature in general, making himself for a very good student for Rose.  
  
"Now, ve're going to practice lift-off, but from the ground," instructed Rose. She and Aiden were out in the woods surrounding the mansion, well out of sight and sound so that Aiden could concentrate on his lessons.  
  
"But I can't lift off from the ground."  
  
"You can, but only vith practice, Twister," Rose said, once again taking on the role of a strict but friendly teacher. "If you don't have faith in yourself, vho vill?" She spread her wings open and started a very slow, repeating flapping. "Now, follow me. One, two. One, two."  
  
Aiden did as he was instructed, wholly trusting and faithful to Rose without condition. As Rose quickened the pace, he felt himself beginning to rise. "Hey! Neat!"  
  
"Now!" Rose cried. "Jump!"  
  
Taking a deep breath, Aiden crouched, then leaped upwards like a spring. He closed his eyes, sure of failure, but found that the updrafts kept him floating so that he only soared upwards. "Rose! I did it, I did it, see!"  
  
Rose smiled. Twister had become as close to her as Kurt and Rogue. His love of life, his energy, everything about the young boy filled her. Her smile faded from happiness to sadness. She'd always wanted a child of her own, but the fear of it looking just like her had ceased that dream. She couldn't bear the thought of a child of hers going through all the pain, humiliation, and shame that she had, simply because it was different.  
  
It was like Old Morgana had told her when she had come back to her trailer, sobbing her heart out because Frederick had made fun of her again. "Define normal," the old fortune-teller had told her. "Nobody is exactly alike!"  
  
"Really?" the sniffling Rose had questioned, still doubtful, rubbing her tail unconsciously like she did whenever she was extremely upset.  
  
"Really, my child. Now! Let's go practice your act!"  
  
Rose sat down, cross-legged, and leaned against a tree as she watched Aiden perform aerial feats that a skydiver would have killed over to execute. She let out a deep, relaxed sigh and let friendly memories wash over her.  
  
Just then, Twister let out a loud, "YEE-HAA!" and Rose looked up at him for a moment, thinking that he should stop being so loud. And that, of course, was when someone attacked her from behind with a tranquilizer gun. She let out a startled gasp at the sting of the dart, but was asleep before she hit the dirt.  
  
Aiden also saw the attack on Rose and let out a hawk-like scream as he zoomed to attack the large, hulking man who was responsible. The man screamed in pain as Twister reached out with his talons and shredded his back wide open. Aiden pulled away, pieces of a bloody shirt caught on his claws. Just as he geared up and swooped down for another aerial attack, screaming bloody murder, he, too, was shot. But not with a tranquilizer dart; this was a 9mm bullet striking him in the shoulder. He cried out again, this time in pain instead of anger, and gripped at his shoulder. He fell to the ground, snapping his arm like a twig, still clutching his bloody shoulder.  
  
Try as he did, he could only watch as the bulky man toss Rose over his shoulder and stroll away as casually as if he were just coming back from a friend's house. Why? he wondered as darkness took him.  
  
It was his last thought for a while. 


	7. Chapter 7

Family Ties: Chapter 7 A/N: Ugh! Sorry for not getting this online right away. You wouldn't believe the case of writer's block that attacked this precious chapter! My poor chapter.  
  
*****  
  
"Aiden!" was the cry of the X-men as they searched the woods for their two missing members. "Rose!"  
  
Only the eerie silence of night answered them. Jubilee sighed, lowered her flashlight, and said to Jean, "Can you sense either of them?"  
  
Jean paused and put her fingertips to her crown, pushing her limits of telepathy. "I'm trying my best, but I can't sense them if they're unconscious or too far out of my range."  
  
"Keep looking!" Beast urged them, every bit as nervous for Demoness and Twister as the others. "Kurt," he instructed, "I want you to teleport up to the top of that tree there, and try to spot them."  
  
Kurt, practically invisible in the dark of night save for his gleaming yellow eyes, gave him the military sign of respect with a taut smile. The yellow eyes vanished, leaving behind the bamf of imploding air and the faintest pungency of burning brimstone.  
  
The next second, he found himself right above the top of a pine tree. As he latched onto the topmost branch, he felt it bend under his weight. Need to mellow down on the gut-bombs, he scolded himself. Holding on with feet, hands, and tail, he scoured the land around him. And found nothing that even gave a clue to the location of his sister and her pupil.  
  
"I can't find them," he called down. "Do you vant me to look again?"  
  
"No," answered Logan. "Get down here." He sniffed again, desperately, to snag even the faintest scent of Aiden or Rose. Especially Rose. Even after her proclamation of not being ready for a physical relationship with him, he still held deep feelings for her, but he didn't know why. After all, he'd spent more years alone than he could count. Why should the company of one woman be so important to him?  
  
(Any luck yet, Logan?) came the voice of the professor, his mental tone filled with worry.  
  
(Nope. But we'll keep looking, Charles. I-)  
  
He stopped short, snuffling delicately. Yes! There it was! It was faint, but the scent of Rose was there. "I found it," he announced to the others just before he raced off into the dark of the woods with the rest of the X-men struggling just to keep up.  
  
The trail paused in a small meadow. It was picture-perfect, like the kind you seed in a Kodak commercial; colorful flowers, a gurgling little stream, moonlight pouring through like the grace of God. The only thing that ruined this cute little picture was the sight of the wounded, and apparently unconscious, Aiden lying right in the stream. The crystal clear water was colored scarlet with the blood flowing freely from his shoulder. His arm was bent in an unnatural, painful-looking angle.  
  
As Storm and Hank surveyed the boy's injuries, Logan took a look at the clearing. There had been a very brief struggle here, his acute senses told him. The fragrance of Rose mingling with a man's, just by that pine tree over there. Logan's lip curled. From the husky, rancid smell now invading his nose, most definitely a man.  
  
A small, shiny item caught his eye. He bent down and picked up a tranq dart, all of the liquid drained out of it. He gave it a testing whiff and caught on to Rose's scent.  
  
"He's been shot," announced Storm, her lovely features taut with fury at someone attacking her friends. Of in the distance, the kettledrum of thunder could be heard. "Who and why would attack Aiden and Rose?"  
  
"Correction," Logan growled, holding up the dart he'd found. "Attacked Aiden, and kidnapped Rose." Jerking his head towards Bayville, he added, "He took her to town."  
  
"But why?"  
  
Logan frowned. "Don't know." He took a long, hard look at the tiny dart in his grasp, like glaring at it might reveal something that had happened to Rose. HIS ROSE. "Don't know. But let's take care of that kid first."  
  
*****  
  
Kurt couldn't stand the waiting. Couldn't stand not knowing what awful fate had befallen his sister. Couldn't stand.  
  
Kitty's babble.  
  
"We should be out there!" she announced, putting her hands on her hips, jutting her lower lip out characteristically.  
  
"We know, Kitty, we know!" said Scott snappishly, very unlike him. But he, like all of the other students and adults, were worried, confused, and angry, most of all worried. Would Aiden be able to tell them what had happened? Would he be all right? And where the hell was Rose!?  
  
"Well, what use are we just sitting here, huh?"  
  
"We have to wait for Aiden to wake up, then we'll get some answers, okay?"  
  
Kitty thrust her lip out even further and plumped herself onto a seat, scowling heavily. "I still say we should be out there."  
  
"Well, where would you look?" Jean said, trying to defuse the argument. "And who would kidnap Rose in the first place?"  
  
"Dunno," said Bobby. "I don't think we know about anyone who's got a grudge on her or somethin'."  
  
The teens stared at the floor in quiet prayers and contemplation in silence, giving the room an eerie air about it that someone had died recently. When the doors to the medical room slammed open and Xavier and Storm walked in, they all jumped.  
  
"Well?" Jean asked. Over a dozen heads around her nodded like bobble dolls, all asking the same question.  
  
"Aiden will be fine, although he is still unconscious," Storm said, taking off the gloves stained with blood from stitching up Aiden's shoulder.  
  
"So ve're still not getting answers yet?" Kurt asked morosely, letting his hands cradle his tired and troubled face.  
  
"Not yet." Xavier looked around the room at all the upset students still in their uniforms, sensing just how deeply hurt and flustered they were. He sent out a wave of reassurance and comfort telepathically, to ease their fears. "But I am sure Aiden will wake in a short while. We simply have to wait until then, and be patient, my students.  
  
"Now! It is very late, and I am quite sure that every single one of you is exhausted. Go to bed, and if Aiden wakes or we find any sign or clue of Rose, we'll wake you immediately. Good night."  
  
*****  
  
"Ohh," moaned Rose groggily, raising her head from her chest with more effort than she should have had to use. "Vhere.vhere am I?"  
  
"Home, my lovely Demoness!" was the answer from the shadows of the tent.  
  
"Vhat?" Rose looked around, giving herself a devil of a headache with even the simplest of movements.  
  
"Who's there?" She tried to rise, but found she was bound with ropes unto a chair so tightly she couldn't even move. Her hands and legs were likewise handcuffed, the cold metal biting into her skin and chilling her to the bone. She could feel a metal band circling her temple. It was buzzing, giving her one hell of a headache.  
  
She gazed around the trailer, for that was where she was, and the realization of her predicament smacked her full in the face.  
  
"Oh, I'm hurt, my dear," the voice in the shadows said, fake pain dripping from their every word. "Has ten years of our being apart really make that much of a difference?"  
  
That was when the voice was given a human form as he walked out of the darkness. Before he had even taken his third step, Rose let out a gasp.  
  
"Volfgang!"  
  
Wolfgang shook his head at her like she was the most imbecile person on the face of the Earth. "Are you ever going to get my name right?"  
  
"Maybe," she replied with a sneer. Wolfgang hated any answer besides "yes sir", and she knew it.  
  
Like she had expected, he curled his lip, his dirt-brown eyes glistening. He slowly raised a hand and Rose prepared herself for a blow. But then he regained control of himself and lowered his hand. "You always could get me fired up, couldn't you?"  
  
The ringmaster put his hands on the arms of the chair and put his full weight on them. The wood groaned in protest. He grinned cattily at her. Rose knew that this was just to frighten her and, as much as she hated to admit it to anyone, most especially herself, it did.  
  
But Rose Blanch was no coward. Her extensive history made that clear to any doubters.  
  
It wasn't exactly fear she felt now. No, what she felt was more like revulsion for Wolfgang, and even more for herself. Both she and Wolfgang recognized the possible outcome of this situation, one that she had put behind her long ago.  
  
Now that he grinned at her, possessively, she knew she could dismiss him as nothing and disregard his stares as she figured out how to escape. But to her amazement, there was a very angry and very scared Rose inside of her that wanted to run and hide, and was also something that her older self had not been for a very long time - ashamed. Not ashamed for some great wrong she had committed, no it was the way that Wolfgang looked at her that shamed her, the way assumed that something on her part had put her at his mercy. Probably nearly fifty men had approached Rose in her lifetime, and more of them than she really wanted to admit had succeeded, but not a single one had ever made her feel so dirty as Wolfgang did just by looking at her.  
  
Facing Wolfgang on her own two feet, surrounded by Logan, friends, and family, she had thought that she had gotten over those feelings of hopelessness and humiliation. But now, bound and once again at his mercy, part of her felt that she was no better than she was when she had been fifteen. During those times, whenever he had the chance, he had culminated victories over her in their "training" with fondlings, gropings, and much worse indignities, things he told her were his right by owning the circus. The last, worst time for her was right before he had gone to the States to converse with another ringmaster about combining their shows. The consequences had devastated her in such a way that battle seemed laughable. When she had heard that Wolfgang was returning, she had fled, leaving behind the only life she had ever known.  
  
She could see that huge, dumb-looking henchman behind Wolfgang, the one who had drugged her and taken her here. He was so still he could have been a mannequin save for the rise and fall of his chest. If he was watching this scene at all, he hid it well. Wolfgang reached out to cup her face. She pulled her chin up and away to avoid his touch. He smiled at her little revolt.  
  
"I'm so glad Fritz here brought you back, Demoness. It's so very good to have you like this again," he said. His voice took on a cat-like purr. One hand slowly traveled upward, gripped her hair in his fist, and dragged her head forward. The other gripped her chin so hard that it would later boast a hand-shaped bruise. Once he had her under his control, he gave her a grotesque parody of a lover's kiss. He did not slip her any tongue, and this disappointed Rose. Her teeth were hard and sharp; she would have used them well.  
  
Wolfgang, as if reading her mind, pulled away long enough to second, sloppy kiss on her cheek. It made one think of how a predator savored the flavor of their prey before devouring it.  
  
"Mm," he purred. "Tasty."  
  
"I have friends," Rose blurted out, perfectly aware of just how stupid she sounded.  
  
"Ah, yes, the other mutants who were with you the other day? From the Institute?" He cackled and planted another kiss. "I am sure that at least one of them is psychic, so I already took care of that."  
  
He pulled back her forelocks, revealing a small band of metal with microchips welded into it. "You thought I was a mere circus ringleader?" he scoffed, adding a throaty growl. "Unlike my fool of a father, I excel in technology. In fact, this is my own little contraption. See, it repels all psychics trying to find you. Works quite well."  
  
"How vould you know?" she snapped. "The only mutant in this show is Frederick." She trailed off as the truth beamed on her. Wolfgang only smiled at her like it was the most obvious thing in the entire world. "You.you are-"  
  
"A mutant? I thought you knew that!" He laughed hysterically, clutching his side and slapping his thigh. With one last chuckle, he said, "I know it works because I tested it on myself. I am quite the telepathist and telekinetic, you see."  
  
He turned to leave, motioning for Fritz to follow him. "I'll leave you be.for now. I advise you get some rest tonight, Demoness." He closed the flap of the tent behind him and reveled in the moan of despair he heard behind him. 


	8. Chapter 8

Family Ties: Chapter 8 A/N: I was a reading this fic the other day, and noticed that Kurt seems to be really mellowed out so far, and in case this is royally pissing you off, do let me explain. As you know, I recently got the X-men 2 novel, and the Kurt from the movie and the Kurt from the cartoon are TOTALLY different. How? Well: MOVIE KURT: Deeply Catholic, very polite, quiet, tends to stay out of the X- men's way, very secure, isn't bothered by his looks. CARTOON KURT: Young, no religion known as of yet, very insecure, smartass, rushes into everything, hates the way he looks. I just think that a bit of Movie Kurt has been molded into the Cartoon Kurt. If ya don't like this, me apologize.  
  
*****  
  
The galloping of Kurt on all fours echoed that of the thunder outside as Bayville was unmercifully rained on. As he approached the door to Kitty and Rogue's shared room, he teleported inside. Before either girl could protest, he grabbed them both by the hand, 'ported them back out, and continued down the hall, leaving them with the message of, "Aiden's avake!"  
  
The girls, joined by other students, nearly stampeded into the medical bay, all griping and yelling, trying to get in first. Beast was well aware of this and, with the kind of order only a teacher can use, promptly stopped all of them before they reached the door.  
  
"Quiet," he instructed, putting a finger to his lips. "Aiden's awake, but he's still in recovery. Only a few of you can come in at a time. Kurt, follow me."  
  
Kurt accompanied him into the med bay, feeling anxious. What if Aiden hadn't seen what had happened to Rose? What if he didn't know anything at all? What if? A lot of "what ifs" there.  
  
Aiden was sitting up and looking fine, save for the fact he was very pale and the large series of stitches in his shoulder.  
  
"How you feeling?" Kurt asked, giving him a smile so that he wouldn't pick up on his gloomy feelings.  
  
"Better," responded Aiden. "I'm sore, but it sure beats laying in a stream and bleedin' to death."  
  
"So.vhat happened?"  
  
Aiden leaned back into his cushy pillows, looking quite distraught. "It happened so fast. A big guy came and knocked Rose out. I tried to attack him, but he shot me. I did see him walking into town before I passed out." He shook his head slowly, obviously very mad at himself for not being able to save his friend and mentor. "I'm sorry, Kurt, I really am."  
  
"Aw, it's not your fault," Kurt said, waving a hand at the boy.  
  
"But I could have done something. What's the use of having all these cool powers if I can't even save my friends?"  
  
"Don't worry," Storm soothed, putting a reassuring hand around Aiden's shoulders. "You did your best, and that's all you can do."  
  
"Thanks, Storm."  
  
"So," Logan said, not liking this mushy moment when Rose could be hurting and crying for their help when he wasn't there. Not at all liking it. "How do we find her?"  
  
"I have used Cerebro," Xavier said, a hint of confusion in his voice, "but have been unable to locate her. It is like something, or someone, is blocking my ability to reach out to Rose. It makes no sense."  
  
A loud banging at the front door made them all jump. Scott rushed out and opened it to reveal a soaked Frederick and Adelaide. Both were panting and clutching coats to protect them from the rain, but it wasn't working.  
  
"Frederick! Adelaide! What are you two doing -"  
  
"It's Wolfgang!" Frederick cried, tears of fear and rage blending with the rain on his face. "He kidnapped Rose, and if you people want to find her, we have to hurry!"  
  
*****  
  
The entire team of the X-men, minus the newer recruits, raced to where the circus was.  
  
Or rather, where the circus had been.  
  
"It's gone!" Logan snarled as he surveyed the empty lot around him. Indeed, all of the animals, jesters, food stands, and tents had been removed, leaving behind only trash. No Rose to be seen. "Damn it!"  
  
"There is no need to swear in front of the children, Logan," Storm told him.  
  
If looks could kill, Storm would have been dead meat from the look Logan gave her. He was pissed, and wasn't going to bother to hide it. Rose, the woman HE cared about, the one HE was determined to get back, was gone again, and it was putting him in an extremely foul mood.  
  
Then something caught his eye. Looking down, he spied deep tire tracks, like those left by diesels. He followed them with his gaze, where they turned off onto the road heading towards the woods. "Found somethin'." Kneeling down closer, he took a good sniff and almost instantly picked up on both Wolfgang and Rose's scents. They'd been here.  
  
"We're gonna need a ride."  
  
*****  
  
Rose could only watch in despair as the trailer she was in wheeled away from her only hope of escape, and towards suffering.  
  
She knew that self-pity would get her nowhere, and, thus, tried to escape. But despite her best efforts of loosening the ropes binding her were futile every time. Wolfgang, sitting across from her, watched this with high amusement. So confident was he that she was trapped, he didn't even make a move to stop her attempts. He had lowered the lights, in what Rose guessed he thought was a romantic mood. Typical; he hadn't changed one little bit, and still had no knowledge of women.  
  
When even Rose felt there was no hope, he smirked and strode over like he was the overlord of all he saw, and not just the ringleader of a literally unknown carnival. Fritz, driving the truck, was either ignoring all going on behind him or was too dumb to know. Rose suspected the former.  
  
"Ah, my sweet little flower," cooed the ringmaster, stroking his fingers around her chin, an ugly grin painted on his face. "We finally have some time to ourselves. How nice, how nice."  
  
"Vhat do you plan to do vith me?" she demanded, twisting her face out of his grasp. "I still have friends in this show; you can't hide me forever in your trailer."  
  
"Oh, they know already. I told them, and paid them to keep their traps shut." He reached into his pocket and pulled out a thick wad of twenties, making a fluttering sound when he flipped them swiftly through his fingers. "Anyone can be bought."  
  
"I can't," she replied defiantly.  
  
He chortled, a deep and throaty sound that finished in a sort of purr. Putting all his weight on the arms of the chair, he stared hard into her eyes, bathing in the utter terror he saw in her scarlet pupils.  
  
"We'll see about that."  
  
He leaned in closer until there was only centimeters of space separating his face and hers. Her breath simply intoxicated him, and excited him just like it had ten years ago. It had been so long before someone could do that to him. Only Rose. Only Rose.  
  
"Vhat do you plan to do vith me?" Rose repeated in the same harsh, demanding tone. Most guys he knew would have hated to be talked to like that, but it only added to his burning fever of ecstasy.  
  
"Together we shall build an empire! Two powerful mutants combined in a moment of passion, along with other mutants, will create an army with which we shall fight off humanity, and finally take what is ours! The Earth!"  
  
"Passion," scoffed she. Their meetings, at least for her, had been nothing like that. "And I seriously doubt that you, of all people, could rule the vorld."  
  
He gave a toothy, cat-like grin, baring all of his teeth in ferocious smile, as he began to settle his weight onto hers, feeling a primal and raw need rise up in him. "Start believing, love."  
  
*****  
  
Although Wolfgang had disabled both Cerebro and Xavier from contacting Rose, and vice versa, he had not taken in consideration the Blackbird. It surged through the sky, emitting the characteristic loud crack of a sonic boom as it broke the sound barrier.  
  
Storm sat at the pilot's chair, her eyes the color of milk as she cast a fog out in front of them and clouds beneath, both serving to hide the jet from sight. In less than half and hour, Frederick pointed out the large line of circus vans on the practically abandoned road winding through the woods.  
  
"Set 'er down, Storm," Logan growled, already unbuckling his seat belt, forgetting the fact that they were still over a hundred feet up in the air. After all, when one has a healing factor, you don't have to worry about breaking both your legs on impact.  
  
But, considering how much that would hurt, powers or no powers, he smartly waited for her to park the Blackbird on the top of a hill. It was so late in the night, and nobody was going to be on the road right now, so the plane was perfectly safe from being discovered.  
  
Everyone started to run, fly, and teleport as fast as they humanely could. Fear for your loved ones is a pretty good motivation.  
  
*****  
  
Aboard Wolfgang's personal trailer, Fritz started to fidget and tightened his grip on the wheel of the truck. Nature was calling, and it wasn't about to stay on hold.  
  
"Boss?"  
  
Wolfgang snarled as he turned from Rose to the front of the truck. "What?"  
  
"Er, I gotta go."  
  
"What?" Wolfgang's left eyebrow shot up; he obviously wasn't sure if the man was trying to be funny or was even stupider than I thought.  
  
"I gotta go. Bad."  
  
"Oh, fine! Stop the truck, we'll catch up with the others soon. And hurry, damn it!" he added in a fierce growl that sent the manservant running even faster than his bladder. Good thugs were so hard to find these days.  
  
*****  
  
"Stop," Beast whispered fiercely as he spied a large man walk out that Wolverine had confirmed held Rose inside.  
  
"What the heck is he -" Rogue started, but when Fritz unbuckled his pants and did what all things did, she got her answer. The girls all turned away politely, Kitty blushing madly.  
  
A sigh of contentment could be heard from Fritz as he relieved himself of that afternoon's six-pack of Pepsi. When he started to make for the truck, he didn't even have time to gasp as a blue demon suddenly appeared in front of him. With a toothy grin, Nightcrawler latched on to him with hands, feet, and tail, and teleported the man right on top of a tree.  
  
And left him there, which wasn't all that fun for Fritz; he was afraid of heights. So he did what any other grown, mature man would do.  
  
He screamed for help.  
  
*****  
  
Rose heard the scream, as did Wolfgang. She knew it could only mean one thing; the X-Men had come. A thought of horror crossed her mind; what if Wolfgang hurt them? The thought of Logan, of Kurt, of anyone in her new family hurt made her sick to her stomach.  
  
Wolfgang wasn't happy either; his powers of telepathy told him who had come, how many, and just what they were capable of. But the thing that was really aggravating him was all these interruptions! Some people were just too darn nosy.  
  
"Be right back, love," he said, pinching Rose's cheek as he left. When he walked out, he was slightly disappointed; only kids, and a few weak adults. Pitiful.  
  
Seeing Wolfgang, the man he instantly identified as Wolverine gave a throaty bone-chilling howl and charged him like a mad bull. Wolfgang smiled; he had more courage than brains.  
  
A simple sweep of his hand sent Wolverine flying over twenty feet back. The others were instantly on guard, and attacked with all their might, but they had been beat from the very beginning. Not a single one managed to take more than five steps before being slammed into a tree or into the ground by telekinesis, or to be rendered unconscious by telepathy. Glad to see that every single X-Man was defeated, lying helpless and hopeless on the road, the ringmaster turned elegantly around and headed back for the truck. Giving Rose a purely evil glance, he turned the truck on, ignoring Fritz's desperate cries for help, and floored it. Nothing would come between him and his dream.  
  
NOTHING!  
  
*****  
  
The X-Men lay on the asphalt of the highway, some moaning, others silent. Only one was able to see Wolfgang drive away with Rose in tow down the road. Only one was able to pick himself up and chase after as fast as his body could take him.  
  
That one was a very pissed, very determined Wolverine. 


	9. Chapter 9

Family Ties: Chapter 9 Yay! It seems that my writer's block be wearing off! By the way, I thought I'd let you in on a little secret. This was originally a Nightcrawler fic, but, somehow, some way, it evolved (no pun intended!) into a Wolverine/OC fic. Don't ask me how; I don't even like Wolverine all that much. Go figure.  
  
***** The roar of the truck's engine drowned out every other sound as it sped down the highway. Wolfgang's thoughts were no longer on Rose, but on getting the hell out of this town. Half of his mind expected to see the entire team of X-Men behind him, stronger than ever and ready to kill.  
  
He tried not to focus on those morose thoughts, and kept it on the road ahead of him and on the wheel in his hands. Soon enough, he'd join up with the rest of the circus, and his empire would begin!  
  
Of course, that was when he saw Wolverine running right behind him at full speed, gaining ever closer. How that man kept up, Wolfgang could only guess, but he was drawing nearer. With a snarl, he tried to push the truck faster, but only found that the truck was going as fast as it possibly could and more. Letting out a loud curse that would have made nuns gasp, he pulled over. There was only one way to end this; to end the life of the Wolverine.  
  
Logan stopped five feet away from the vehicle and watched Wolfgang hop out of the driver's side, as if this was nothing more than meeting up with an old friend.  
  
"Hello, Wolverine."  
  
"Where's Rose?" Logan snarled, extending his claws with their characteristic snikt.  
  
Wolfgang jerked his head over to the trailer attached to the truck. "Oh, over there." His eyes glowed like an ember, but never flickering. "You will have to go through me to get to her, Wolverine."  
  
Logan growled. He'd learned just how powerful Wolfgang's telekinesis and telepathy was, and cautious now. Even he doubted that he would be able to get more than three feet closer to the truck before being either being slammed into the ground or knocked unconscious, or both.  
  
But Logan was as stubborn as a pig, and damned proud of it. He wasn't going to give up without a fight. Resolute pride would not let him do otherwise. Holding his right fist out in front of him, issuing a challenge to the psychic ringleader, he said, "Bring it on, bub."  
  
Wolfgang gave him a toothy grin, the response to the challenge. This would be such fun.  
  
*****  
  
Inside the camper, Rose bunny-hopped her chair around to face the window on the back of the trailer. To her shock, she could see Logan facing off with Wolfgang. And losing horribly. Every time he charged the man, Wolfgang only had to wave a hand, and Logan was sent flying up, down, right, left, any direction Wolfgang wished.  
  
Her eyes brimmed with tears of fury and she desperately wished that she were stronger somehow. Strong enough to protect the friends and family that were suffering just to get her back home.  
  
And, as if by magic or some unknown force, Rose could feel a new power flow through her veins. It seemed to fill her, just as water fills a cup, and nourished her. The pureness of this newfound, raw power gave her purpose, a reason to live. It made Rose feel happy and sad at the same time, hungry and full at the same time. Her soul ached to embrace this feeling, harness its power, and use it for her own doing.  
  
Rose could only wonder if she had gone mad. Looking out at the battle taking place in front of her, she knew, insane or not, that she needed to help Logan as he had her. Debts had to be paid.  
  
*****  
  
Logan was putting up a helluva fight, that was for sure. His suburb healing abilities helped him from being outright killed, but Wolfgang was hurting him too fast for his body to react.  
  
For the hundredth time, Logan felt his body fly through the air and collide into a pine tree. The force of the impact shattered the teeth in his skull, which regenerated just as quickly as they'd been lost. Blood trickled in tiny crimson streams from his nose, ears, and mouth.  
  
Wolfgang was, as he had expected, loving every single moment of this. As the demented man watched Wolverine writhe in agony. Every time the other man was flung into a tree or slammed face-first onto the highway, he laughed, harsh and loud.  
  
"I really must thank you, dear Wolverine!" he cried as Logan once again soared up into the air only to come screaming down onto the road. "I haven't had this kind of amusement in many a year! Your recuperative powers just draw this out, and allow me to have more fun!" Here, he gave a big sigh, the kind you hear from an old withered man. "But, soon, very soon really, this game will bore me, and you will have to die.  
  
"How shall I do it?" he pondered, freezing Logan in mid-air as he thought. He paid no heed to Logan's futile struggling. "Shall I simply stop the beating of your heart? Trick your brain into a seizure? Cease every single function in your body, one at a time, until you die a slow and painful death? Ah, well. Anyway, you'll go with a bang, wouldn't you say!"  
  
He started to laugh so hard that he never saw the trailer door open. Out stumbled Rose, bruised from Wolfgang's foreplay and bleeding profusely on her wrists from biting her own skin off to escape from her bindings. Logan was in too much pain to notice her, and Wolfgang was having the time of his life, wrapped up in his own little fantasy world.  
  
When he finally felt Rose's tail wrap around his throat, he couldn't react. All he could do was vainly struggle against her arms, legs, and tail lashed around his entire body. She straddled him in a way that he could never find comfortable and drew the pocketknife that he had always carried in his left boot.  
  
"Let him go, Volfgang," she demanded, her tone the complete opposite of her usual kind and soft voice. The savage look in her face and in the movements of her body frightened him to the very core of his being. He had never seen her like this; something ancient and very powerful had been awakened deep inside of her. For once in his life, he was unashamed to let the tears stain his cheeks, and the even worse wet spot on the front of his trousers.  
  
"Let him go!"  
  
"Okay! Okay!"  
  
With a snap of his fingers, Logan was gently set back down on solid ground, suffering serious vertigo from his piteous fight. Looking over at Rose, he couldn't hold back the growing smile on his face. Perhaps she hadn't needed his help after all!  
  
Rose pressed the jagged edge of the little blade to Wolfgang's throat, and the ringmaster could tell, from both her mind and body, that she wanted nothing more or less than to slice off his head and use it as a beach ball. "Oh God, don't kill me, Rose! I don't want to die, please! PLEASE!"  
  
To both his and Logan's surprise, she released him.  
  
"I von't kill you," said she, tossing the knife to him. "That's something you vouldn't hesitate to do to me, and I am better than you." She leaned in close, taking his shirt front in one hand, keeping him only a few meager inches from her face. Her nose wrinkled in disgust as she said in a low, almost inaudible, whisper, "But heed this; you vill live, but if you ever, EVER, come near me or my friends, all hell vill break loose. Got that?"  
  
Wolfgang nodded meekly, shaking like a leaf. Shoving him away and into the back of the camper, Rose walked away and over to Logan. "Hello, Herr Logan."  
  
"Hiya, darlin'."  
  
They only looked at each other; there was no need for words now. Both were bleeding, both were bruised, but they were happy and whole once again. Just when Logan was about to ask if she was okay, even though he knew she was, she suddenly leaped forward and embraced him so tightly that he heard all the air in his lungs rush out.  
  
"Thank you for coming, Logan."  
  
"It was nothing."  
  
"Oh, but it vas." She looked at him, touching her forehead to his. "It vas."  
  
"Ready to go on home?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"What about your old chum over there?"  
  
"He and I came to.an agreement, I suppose you could say. Let's go home."  
  
They walked down the highway together, hand in hand. It was a simple thing, but it meant the world to Logan. Everything else faded away to nothing, leaving only him and Rose. He had done as he said, he'd gotten her back. What could go wrong?  
  
He heard the knife whistling through the air even before he knew what it was. Unbeknownst to him, Wolfgang had been the knife-thrower in the Adolph & Family Circus long before the death of his father. Years and years of practice had made him one of the best marksmen on the face of the Earth and, with telekinesis guiding it, the knife landed right where he'd wanted it to; the small of Rose's back.  
  
*****  
  
Frederick was just gaining consciousness, as were Adelaide and the X- Men, when Rose's shrill scream burst through the usual quiet of the forest around them, followed by a roar of rage from Wolverine.  
  
His heart stopped, he stopped breathing, it was as if the world had abruptly halted in its tracks and left only this moment in it's wake. The echoes of Rose's cry filled the air and rang over and over in his head, like the chorus of a bad song. No! It couldn't be! Had Wolfgang killed Rose?  
  
Before he even knew it, he was on his feet and running to the source of the screaming. Hot tears burned his eyes as he ran. He could not let Rose die! He would die!  
  
Finally, after all those years of living with her, denying the rising feelings he had felt when in her presence, he realized that he loved her more than life, that she was so dear and precious to him that he would give up his body and soul for her.  
  
And it seemed now that moment had come to claim him and his promise.  
  
*****  
  
Time seemed to be having the same effect on Logan, too. He could only stand there frozen as Rose fell to the asphalt, the knife sticking out of her back and covered in her fresh, warm blood. The sound of her scream echoed and reechoed throughout his entire body, turning his blood to ice.  
  
Half a second later, he screamed and flung himself at Wolfgang. The stunned ringleader had no time to freeze his thoughts or body and could only fling up his arms in self-defense from this mad man. He could feel his body being literally ripped to shreds, blood spurting from his wounds, his clothes providing worse than useless for protection against this barbaric assault of ferocity and raw emotions.  
  
Logan knew none of this; he knew only that Rose was dead! DEAD! His keen senses told him this, that it was too late for her, that the one person that had truly meant something to him had been so horribly ripped from him. Just like his past.  
  
It had been all because of men like Wolfgang and others like him. Rose had done nothing to Wolfgang, why did she deserve to die? What had she done to anger God? If anyone deserved to die, it was this man before Logan. And yet, he still lived, still had a beating heart, still drew breath from air that should rightfully be Rose's.  
  
Logan, the Wolverine, raised his fist, ready to slam his claw straight into Wolfgang's brain. He wanted the man who had killed his lover to feel the pain he was feeling now. Mercy and compassion had left him, replaced by a torrent of pain, despair, and sorrow. Before, in all of his other battles, he had never felt such emotions. He'd been empty, and the bloodshed had filled him. But now, he felt like the world had been ripped from beneath him, leaving him without any other purpose but to drift in the nothingness of space.  
  
"Logan, stop!"  
  
Storm's voice came out to him, but it was too late. Wolfgang had been doomed the second he'd thrown the knife.  
  
Down came the claws.  
  
Frederick hid Adelaide's head in his shirt, deafening her ears to Wolfgang's last gurgling scream. More than a few of the X-Men blanched; they'd never seen Logan kill a man. Never. Evan put a hand to his mouth and ran into the bushes, throwing up every single piece of food he'd ever eaten in his life.  
  
Logan stood up, using his pants to wipe the blood off of his claws. Death was no stranger to him. He'd walked with it longer than he could remember, and guilt was a feeling that had long been put behind him.  
  
But he felt it now as he walked to where Rose's body lay. He didn't even bother to hide the undeniable tears welling up in his eyes. Gingerly, like an old man, he kneeled down and scooped the lifeless body up in his arms. "Rose."  
  
The tears came now, unstoppable, but not just for Logan; every one there, even Adelaide, was weeping. With the racking mix of a sob and a roar, he screamed. It echoed for over a mile, sending shivers down every sentient spine that was near enough to hear it.  
  
Logan set his whiskery chin on her soft hair, crying softly. It wasn't fair. It just wasn't fair.  
  
"Logan?"  
  
For a second, he thought it was Kitty, Storm, or one of the other girls. He ignored it, only kneeling there with Rose's body in hand. Nothing mattered anymore, it seemed. Nothing.nothing.  
  
"Logan? Vhy are you crying, mein herr?"  
  
Logan startled and looked down. Sure enough, Rose was gazing up at him with those frightening and yet gorgeous eyes of hers. He could feel his body shake with happiness and relief. "Rose."  
  
She gave him a weak smile and reached up to stroke his face lovingly. "I'm not dead, Logan. You cannot get rid of me that easily."  
  
*****  
  
"How is she, Hank?"  
  
"She'll be fine, Logan. Unfortunately, she won't be able to do anything extreme for a while, and I was forced to amputate her wings. She can walk rather well, but the nerves in the wings were totally paralyzed. She asked that they be removed herself."  
  
"But she's gonna be okay?"  
  
Beast smiled and shook his head. "Yes, yes. As long as she gets some good rest and relaxation, she'll recover completely." He chortled to himself, sitting down in the armchair opposite Logan and Xavier. "The only problem she really faces right now is learning how to walk again."  
  
"Eh?"  
  
"You see, if she didn't have her wings and tail, and if Kurt didn't have his own tail, they'd fall on their faces due to their unique physique. Rose's wings helped balance her out. Heh, heh, when she tried to stand up, she collapsed right into my arms."  
  
Logan's eyebrows shot up.  
  
"Well, as long as she's fine, I'm fine."  
  
"What about the Adolph & Family circus?" Storm asked. "What are they going to do without their ringmaster?"  
  
"Oh, they have one," Xavier said. "Turns out that Rose had one more secret that even I did not know of."  
  
"Oh?" Jean's curiosity was piqued. "What?"  
  
Xavier frowned and leaned back into his wheelchair. "When Wolfgang was in the U.S., Rose was pregnant with his child. That child is old enough to run the show now, under her godfather's protection."  
  
"But who." The answer hit Logan in the face like a slap. "Adelaide?"  
  
Xavier nodded. Scott whistled in amazement. "Who knew?"  
  
"Adelaide, guided with her guardian, Frederick, is the new ringleader. I must say, it was quite a shock even for me to learn this."  
  
"I can only imagine how Adelaide took it," Storm commented.  
  
"She wasn't told. Not yet." He twined his finger together, a slightly puzzled expression on his strong face. "Something about that girl, though, is bothering me. I just can't understand why."  
  
He shook his head and replaced the frown with a smile. "Come on, now, my students. It's almost morning, and I'm positive that you all are in desperate need of sleep. Good night." 


	10. Epilogue

Family Ties: Epilogue A/N: *sigh* All good things must come to an end, that's how the saying goes. But fear not! A sequel (and a fic in between that) looms on the horizon! I want to thank everybody who R&R-ed. You made me feel so very good about my writing and myself. I'll make this chapter the best!!  
  
*****  
  
It was two nights later when Logan finally approached Rose. He sensibly knew that her fear of men would have increased ten-fold now, so he had given her time and space to heal.  
  
He rapped his knuckles on the door, making a faint ringing sound shiver up his entire arm. "Rose?"  
  
"Yes?"  
  
He smiled; at least he'd gotten an answer. "Mind if I join ya?"  
  
"No, no! Come in, please."  
  
He did as she said and found her taking down every single circus poster on her walls. Logan found this odd; she had a great pride in her old life, except for certain aspects. Seeing the confused look on his face, Rose told him, "The circus is my past. I have only the future, here, to look forvard to."  
  
"Oh, so now you're a fortune-teller, too, eh?" he chuckled.  
  
"Not really," she replied with a smile spreading on her face. Her dark skin made it close to impossible to see her blush, and for that, she was eternally grateful to her mother. "But I can try. Can you foresee our future?"  
  
He couldn't help but grin. Our future.he liked the sound of that. "Who wants to see the future? Makes it less exciting."  
  
"I guess so," Rose said, a sly look on her face. "Vhat is life vithout a little fun?"  
  
He noticed a letter on her desk. "Who's that from?"  
  
"Vhat? That? Oh, it is a letter," she said, dulling her tone down. She added, "from Frederick."  
  
"And?"  
  
"He.he vants me to rejoin the circus, and travel vith him."  
  
"And?" he repeated.  
  
Rose smiled. "Are you vorried that I vould leave? Jealous, even?"  
  
"Who, me?" Logan put on his most innocent face. "Nah!"  
  
"Vell, you put up a very good act. And I'm not leaving."  
  
"Great! I mean.why not?"  
  
She sauntered up to him, a shrewd smile framing her face. Putting her arms around his neck, she whispered, "You."  
  
Without her large wings, it was easier to hold her, Logan found. All the better, he thought as he wrapped his arms tight about her body, clinging so tightly he could hear her backbone pop.  
  
Feeling a challenge, Rose held him to her just as tightly, deliberately lowering herself so that they were eye-to-eye.  
  
Her skin was so soft, so plush, that the desire to touch it was becoming unbearable for Logan. He swept aside the curls in her face and kissed her forehead. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he let out a cheer; he had won! Frederick and Wolfgang had lost! And now the time had come to claim his prize.  
  
He bent his head, his mouth tender on hers. Had she ever been lovingly kissed, he wondered. He hadn't expected the flare of passion that surged between them in a kiss that he had expected to be delicate, to assure her that she had nothing to fear from him. Feeling her tremble, with both fear and longing, he tightened his embrace.  
  
"Choose me," he whispered, but her body had gone tense in his grasp. He rocked her as gently as he knew how, kissing her lips, her neck, her cheeks, her forehead. He began to feel something that he had never been aware of: desperate.  
  
"Choose me, Rose," he begged as he felt the rigidity that was the beserker in his soul, not the human.  
  
And she did.  
  
*****  
  
Logan was human again, and Rose was his. He felt triumphant and drained, both at the same time, and something else.he felt.completed. He hadn't felt that since his awakening in the forests of Canada.  
  
They were both panting and sweating, the aftereffects of marvelously extended pleasure. She lay beneath him, eyes closed, soaked indigo curls hiding her face from sight. Logan didn't have the strength, nor the will, to release her, but, to be considerate of her, he shifted. He'd been with lots of ladies, but this encounter was really different somehow.  
  
"Rose.you chose me," he sighed, propping up on his elbows to look down on her.  
  
She turned her head to look at him, gray eyes wide and filled with awe, her scarlet pupils burning with passion and yet dulled by exhaustion. Her full lips had swollen to twice their size from the kisses Logan had been unable to contain, and the edges of her eyelids brimmed with tears.  
  
"Didn't you?" Logan desperately needed to be reassured that she had done this of her own free will. He'd kill himself if rape had been involved.  
  
"I-I didn't know it was like that!" she confessed, turning her head to the right in embarrassment.  
  
"Rose," he whispered, laying his poky chin on her soft forehead, feeling a tad superior since he was no stranger to "that", "it should have happened to you before." He clenched a fist and drove it into the feather mattress, struggling not to pop his claws. "I still can't believe that Wolfgang did that to ya. I -"  
  
"Sssh," she said, laying a finger on his lips. Her face, although tired, was beaming with happiness, and a smile crawled across her kiss- roughened lips. Logan wished he could see her more, but there was so little light in the bedroom. "I'm glad I chose you, and I'm very grateful to you, my love."  
  
"Gratitude in a horse's ass," he snorted. He wrapped his arms around her, very much wanting an encore. He loosened his hold on her when he felt a hint of panic and resistance from her, and forced his body to relax. Looking down at her, he wanted to see what she was thinking and feeling right then.  
  
Rose looked up at him silently for a long time, making him slightly uncomfortable, and curled one hand around his bare shoulder.  
  
"You are angry vith me," she said simply, her body stiff beneath his own.  
  
"Angry?" He didn't understand. "No, I'm -" He paused on "not" and took refuge from the moment by gazing at his lover. He saw that she was smiling a little, that her body was finally relaxed. Both of her hands lay loosely on his back. Taking a deep breath, he tried to make his muscles relax as well. "I'm not angry at ya, darlin'. I'm angry.for you."  
  
She chuckled.  
  
"I'll have to learn to tell the difference," she said.  
  
"Will you?" Logan blurted out.  
  
"Vill I vhat?"  
  
"Want to learn the difference? To learn not to be afraid of me?" He massaged her face, rubbing his thumbs from her temples to her chin, bathing in delight at the softness of her velvety skin. He kissed her lightly and felt her cheeks warm in his hands. Then, gently, carefully, he moved to one side of her sleek form and pulled her to him that her head lay on his chest.  
  
"Tired," she remarked simply, hugging him close with a deep sigh. "A nap vould be nice."  
  
"Yeah." Logan liked that idea, especially the idea of sleeping with her in his arms. He liked that idea very much. 


End file.
